The stars are scattered all over the sky like shimmering tears, there must be great pain in the eye from which they trickled.
One must love humanity in order to reach out into the unique essence of each individual: no one can be too low or too ugly.
The weapon of the Republic is terror, and virtue is its strength.
Love is a peculiar thing.
The life of the wealthy is one long Sunday.
The world is chaos. Nothingness is the yet-to-be-born god of the world.