Germany is now a field of cadavers, soon she will be a paradise.
The stars are scattered all over the sky like shimmering tears, there must be great pain in the eye from which they trickled.
Dying people often become childish.
The weapon of the Republic is terror, and virtue is its strength.
The life of the wealthy is one long Sunday.
Revolution calls my name. I will soon dwell in nothingness, and my name will be in the Pantheon of history.