It Is The Revolution, The Magical Word,

Images, Memories, Fragmentary Shapes And Forms All Those Sensations, Visions, Half-thoughts That Appear And Disappear In The Wink Of An Eye, As One Sets Forth To Meet.... The Path Also Disappears As I Think Of It, As I Say It.

To Fight Evil Is To Fight Ourselves.

We Are Condemned To Kill Time, Thus We Die Bit By Bit.

Love Is An Attempt At Penetrating Another Being, But It Can Only Succeed If The Surrender Is Mutual.

By Diminishing The Value Of Silence, Publicity Has Also Diminished That Of Language. The Two Are Inseparable: Knowing How To Speak Has Always Meant Knowing How To Keep Silent, Knowing That There Are Times When One Should Say Nothing.