Talent Is Like A Faucet, While It

Listen, My Friend, There Are Two Races Of Beings. The Masses Teeming And Happy - Common Clay, If You Like - Eating, Breeding, Working, Counting Their Pennies; People Who Just Live; Ordinary People; People You Can't Imagine Dead. And Then There Are The Others - The Noble Ones, The Heroes. The Ones You Can Quite Well Imagine Lying Shot, Pale And Tragic; One Minute Triumphant With A Guard Of Honor, And The Next Being Marched Away Between Two Gendarmes

All Children Are Sweet At Five. But At Twelve They Begin To Get Silly.

What You Get Free Costs Too Much.

Believe Me; All Evil Comes From The Old. They Grow Fat On Ideas And Young Men Die Of Them.

There Will Always Be A Lost Dog Somewhere That Will Keep Me From Being Happy.