The World's History Is The World's Judgment.

Most Gladly Would I Give The Blood-stained Laurel For The First Violet Which March Brings Us, The Fragrant Pledge Of The New-fledged Year.

The May Of Life Blooms Once And Never Again.

I Feel An Army In My Fist.

Whatever Is Not Forbidden Is Permitted.

A Beautiful Soul Has No Other Merit Than Its Own Existence.