One forges one's style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.
The day is not far off when one ordinary carrot may be pregnant with revolution.
If something's just, I'll let myself be hacked to bits for it.
When truth is buried, it grows. It chokes. It gathers such an explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it.
Let us eat, drink and satisfy our coarse appetites, but let us keep our souls sacred and apart.
When you have a sorrow that is too great it leaves no room for any other.