False judges are held up in the world's admiration and I alone know the true ones.
I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints.
A sub-clerk in the post-office is the equal of a conqueror if consciousness is common to them.
There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart.
I have no idea what's awaiting me, or what will happen when this all ends. For the moment I know this: there are sick people and they need curing.
Utopia is that which is in contradiction with reality.