That Is The Hardest Thing Of All.

You Are Beautiful, But You Are Empty,” He Went On. “one Could Not Die For You. To Be Sure, An Ordinary Passerby Would Think That My Rose Looked Just Like You--the Rose That Belongs To Me.

Are Wars... Anything But The Means Whereby A Nation's Problems Are Set, Where Creation Is Stimulated - There You Have Adventure. But There Is No Adventure In Heads-or-tails, In Betting That The Toss Will Come Out Of Life Or Death. War Is Not An Adventure. It Is A Disease. It Is Like Typhus.

He Fell As Gently As A Tree Falls. There Was Not Even Any Sound.

To Grasp The Meaning Of The World Of Today We Use A Language Created To Express The World Of Yesterday. The Life Of The Past Seems To Us Nearer Our True Natures, But Only For The Reason That It Is Nearer Our Language.

Peace Is Present When Things Form Part Of A Whole Greater Than Their Sum, As The Diverse Minerals In The Ground Collect To Become The Tree.