This Work Is A Torture On The

I Can't Sleep. There Is A Woman Stuck Between My Eyelids. I Would Tell Her To Get Out If I Could. But There Is A Woman Stuck In My Throat

Almost All Wars, Perhaps All, Are Trade Wars Connected With Some Material Interest. They Are Always Disguised As Sacred Wars, Made In The Name Of God, Or Civilization Or Progress. But All Of Them, Or Almost All Of The Wars, Have Been Trade Wars.

It Is Highly Improbable That The Bureaucrat Will Put His Life On The Line. It Is Absolutely Impossible That He'll Put His Job On The Line.

Utopia Lies At The Horizon. When I Draw Nearer By Two Steps, It Retreats Two Steps. If I Proceed Ten Steps Forward, It Swiftly Slips Ten Steps Ahead. No Matter How Far I Go, I Can Never Reach It. What, Then, Is The Purpose Of Utopia? It Is To Cause Us To Advance.

Reality Is A Magic Lady, Sometimes Very Mysterious. To Me She Is Very Passionate. She Is Real Not Only When She Is Awake, Walking Down The Streets, But Also At Night When She Is Dreaming Or When She Is Having Nightmares. When I Am Writing, I Am Always Paying Tribute To Her - To That Lady Called Reality.