Little critters fried like fritters come out crunchy and divine.

... the decades looked on and didn't notice her passing. They stared from their fixed mounts across at each other and didn't see revolution striding between them, on her way to destiny.

From torched skyscrapers, men grew wings.

Sorrow has a name, and its name is loneliness. Sorrow has a shape, and its shape is absence. Sorrow is a sickness like any other.

So let my hands and my face make their way in this world, let my hungry eyes see, my tongue taste.

Begging your pardon, sir....One population can't make peace with another by force.

I never use the words HUMANIST or HUMANITARIAN, as it seems to me that to be human is to be capable of the most heinous crimes in nature.