Irony Is The Glory Of Slaves.

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.

The Child Who Dwells Inside Us Trusts That There Are Wise Men Somewhere Who Know The Truth.

It Is Sweet To Think I Was A Companion In An Expedition That Never Ends

I Imagine The Earth When I Am No More: Women's Dresses, Dewy Lilacs, A Song In The Valley. Yet The Books Will Be There On The Shelves, Well Born, Derived From People, But Also From Radiance, Heights.

In A Room Where People Unanimously Maintain A Conspiracy Of Silence, One Word Of Truth Sounds Like A Pistol Shot.