The only truth is that I live. Sincerely, I live. Who am I? Well, that's a bit much.

Today at school I wrote an essay about Flag Day which was so beautiful, but ever so beautiful - for I even used words without really knowing what they meant.

I write to save someone's life, probably my own

Do not mourn the dead. They know what they are doing.

A horse is freedom so indominable that it becomes useless to imprison it to serve man: it lets itself be domesticated, but with a simple, rebellious toss of the head-shaking its mane like an abundance of free-flowing hair-it shows that its inner nature is always wild, translucent and free.

I just know that I don't want cheating. I refuse. I deepened myself but I don't believe in myself because my thought is invented.

Living isn't courage, knowing that you're living, that's courage