We will go far away, to nowhere, to conquer, to fertilize until we become tired. Then we will stop and there will be our home.
We built tall buildings, but we have not become any taller.
Whatever others may say, they say it to deceive and comfort themselves, not help you.
Statesmen are grocers, ambitious clowns.
A breeze, a forgotten summer, a smile, all can fit into a storefront window.
He will understand when it is too late that it is easier to love.