A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals and is like a half-thawed winter.

What has no shadow has no strength to live.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy, Repeats while he binds his tomatoes: No other end of the world will there be, No other end of the world will there be.

Human reason is beautiful and invincible. No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books, No sentence of banishment can prevail against it. It puts what should be above things as they are. It does not know Jew from Greek nor slave from master.

The child who dwells inside us trusts that there are wise men somewhere who know the truth.

You who think of us: they lived only in delusion... Know that we the People of the Book, will never die!

Learning To believe you are magnificent. And gradually to discover that you are not magnificent. Enough labor for one human life.