No one who lives in the sunlight of gratitude that things aren't worse makes a failure of his or her life.

At a certain level of suffering or injustice no one can do anything for anyone. Pain is solitary.

Cruel irony, the poor man tormented with hunger feeds those who plead his case.

We come into the world laden with the weight of an infinite necessity.

There can be no true goodness, nor true love, without the utmost clear-sightedness.

Each generation doubtless feels called upon to reform the world. Mine knows that it will not reform it, but its task is perhaps even greater. It consists in preventing the world from destroying itself.

Have you noticed that only death arouses our emotions? How we love thee friends who have just passed away, right? How we admire those master who no longer speak, their mouths full of dirt. We them we are not obligated.