We have not made the Revolution, the Revolution has made us.
Government must be a transparent garment which tightly clings to the people's body.
The stars are scattered all over the sky like shimmering tears, there must be great pain in the eye from which they trickled.
Death is the most blessed dream.
People like us are unhappy in this world and in the next, I guess if we made it to heaven, we'd have to help make it thunder.
The statue of Freedom has not been cast yet, the furnace is hot, we can all still burn our fingers.