We used to wonder where war lived, what it was that made it so vile. And now we realize that we know where it lives... inside ourselves.

A work of art is a confession.

Some are created to love, while the others - to live.

The harshest winter finds an invincible summer in us.

Freedom is not a gift received from the State or leader, but a possession to be won every day by the effort of each and the union of all.

Rebellion cannot exist without a strange form of love.

I was tormented by my desire for a woman ... I thought so much about a woman, about women, about all the ones I had known, about all the circumstances in which I had enjoyed them, that my cell would be filled with their faces and crowded with my desires.