Irony Is The Glory Of Slaves.

The Living Owe It To Those Who No Longer Can Speak To Tell Their Story For Them.

Not That I Want To Be A God Or A Hero. Just To Change Into A Tree, Grow For Ages, Not Hurt Anyone.

Human Reason Is Beautiful And Invincible. No Bars, No Barbed Wire, No Pulping Of Books, No Sentence Of Banishment Can Prevail Against It. It Puts What Should Be Above Things As They Are. It Does Not Know Jew From Greek Nor Slave From Master.

It Was Only Toward The Middle Of The Twentieth Century That The Inhabitants Of Many European Countries Came, In General Unpleasantly, To The Realization That Their Fate Could Be Influenced Directly By Intricate And Abstruse Books Of Philosophy.

And Now I Am Ready To Keep Running When The Sun Rises Beyond The Borderlands Of Death. I Already See Mountain Ridges In The Heavenly Forest Where, Beyond Every Essence, A New Essence Awaits.