Love is a peculiar thing.
You women could make someone fall in love even with a lie.
Whoever finishes a revolution only halfway, digs his own grave.
The stars are scattered all over the sky like shimmering tears, there must be great pain in the eye from which they trickled.
The world is chaos. Nothingness is the yet-to-be-born god of the world.
The strides of humanity are slow, they can only be counted in centuries.