We Are Afraid Of The Enormity Of

Shame On The Man Who Goes To His Grave Escorted By The Miserable Hopes That Have Kept Him Alive.

We Would Not Be Interested In Human Beings If We Did Not Have The Hope Of Someday Meeting Someone Worse Off Than Ourselves.

If We Manage To Last In Spite Of Everything, It Is Because Our Infirmities Are So Many And So Contradictory That They Cancel Each Other Out.

Whenever I Happen To Be In A City Of Any Size, I Marvel That Riots Do Not Break Out Everyday: Massacres, Unspeakable Carnage, A Doomsday Chaos. How Can So Many Human Beings Coexist In A Space So Confined Without Hating Each Other To Death?

Tyrants Are Always Assassinated Too Late. That Is Their Great Excuse.