Each man carries within him the soul of a poet who died young.

It is the duty of the ship's captain to make port, cost what it may.

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.

No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.

Let a man in a garret but burn with enough intensity and he will set fire to the world.

Each man must look to himself to teach him the meaning of life. It is not something discovered: it is something molded.

When we think that the machine will harm man, then it is perhaps because we are not yet capable of judging the rapid changes it has brought about. We hardly feel at home in this landscape of mines and power stations. We have just moved into this new home that we have not even finished yet. Everything around us has changed so fast - personal relations, working conditions, habits. Even our state of mind is in turmoil.