The Life Of The Wealthy Is One

The Weapon Of The Republic Is Terror, And Virtue Is Its Strength.

The Statue Of Freedom Has Not Been Cast Yet, The Furnace Is Hot, We Can All Still Burn Our Fingers.

We Have Not Made The Revolution, The Revolution Has Made Us.

The Stars Are Scattered All Over The Sky Like Shimmering Tears, There Must Be Great Pain In The Eye From Which They Trickled.

Man Is An Abyss, And I Turn Giddy When I Look Down Into It.