Who would prefer peace to the glory of hunger and thirst, of wading through mud, and dying in the service of one's country?

Women have no sense of the abstract-a woman admiring the sky is a woman caressing the sky. In a woman's mind beauty is something she needs to touch.

Falsehood is the jockey of misfortune.

Countries are like fruit-the worms are always inside.

Death is the next step after the pension-it's perpetual retirement without pay.

Death holds no horrors. It is simply the ultimate horror of life.

There is an invisible garment woven around us from our earliest years; it is made of the way we eat, the way we walk, the way we greet people.