... one cannot be happy in exile or in oblivion. One cannot always be a stranger. I want to return to my homeland, make all my loved ones happy. I see no further than this.
The struggle to the top alone will make a human heart SWELL.
A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.
No matter how the sun shone, the sea held forth no more promises.
It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear.
Still, obviously, one can't be sensible all the time.