Through the centuries, the history of peoples is but a lesson in mutual tolerance.
If you shut up truth, and bury it underground, it will but grow.
The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one's toes on the gravestones.
Did not one spend the first half of one's days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?
Blow the candle out, I don't need to see what my thoughts look like.
I am little concerned with beauty or perfection. I don't care for the great centuries. All I care about is life, struggle, intensity.