Night, When Words Fade And Things Come

In Every Crowd Are Certain Persons Who Seem Just Like The Rest, Yet They Bear Amazing Messages.

War Is Not An Adventure. It Is A Disease. It Is Like Typhus.

Vain Is The Hope Of Finding Pleasure In That Which One Has Hitherto Disdained; As When The Warrior Hopes To Find Pleasure In The Joys Of The Sedentaries.

When You Give Yourself, You Receive More Than You Give.

Action And Personal Happiness Have No Truck With Each Other; They Are Eternally At War.