Freedom is not a reward or a decoration that you toast in champagne. On the contrary, it's hard graft and a long-distance run, all alone, very exhausting. Alone in a dreary room, alone in the dock before the judges, and alone to make up your mind, before yourself and before the judgement of others. At the end of every freedom there is a sentence, which is why freedom is too heavy to bear.

We are rebels for a cause, poets with a dream , and we won't let this world die without a fight.

And indeed it could be said that once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of plague was ended.

A free press can, of course, be good or bad, but, most certainly without freedom, the press will never be anything but bad.

In the past, the poverty they shared had a certain sweetness about it. When the end of the day came and they would eat their dinner in silence with the oil lamp between them, there was a secret joy in such simplicity, such retrenchment.

But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.

Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement.