There is nothing worse than giving the longest of legs to the smallest of ideas.
Por que bonita, se coxa? Por que coxa, se bonita?
Tomorrow's sun is on it's way - a relentless sun, inscrutable like life.
To him the stars seemed like so many musical notes affixed to the sky, just waiting for somebody to unfasten them. Someday the sky would be emptied, but by then the earth would be a constellation of musical scores
We kill time; time buries us.
He felt that there is a loose balance of good and evil, and that the art of living consists in getting the greatest good out of the greatest evil.