He Who Could Have Been A Torch

Others Go To Bed With Their Mistresses; I With My Ideas.

A Poem Is Something Sacred. Let No One Take It For Anything Except Itself.

Let Those Who Desire A Secure Homeland Conquer It. Let Those Who Do Not Conquer It Live Under The Whip And In Exile, Watched Over Like Wild Animals, Cast From One Country To Another, Concealing The Death Of Their Souls With A Beggar's Smile From The Scorn Of Free Men.

Men Are Like The Stars; Some Generate Their Own Light While Others Reflect The Brilliance They Receive.

Rights Are To Be Taken, Not Requested; Seized, Not Begged For.