I don't want to hear about my death.

I’ll parade with those who are alone like me. They exist. They are very few, but they exist. I’ll find them.

One day you and I will have to have a little talk about this business called love. I still don't understand what it's all about. My guess is that it's just a gigantic hoax, invented to keep people quiet and diverted. Everyone talks about love: the priests, the advertising posters, the literati, and the politicians, those of them who make love. And in speaking of love and offering it as a panacea for every tragedy, they would and betray and kill both body and soul.

I didn't want to kill a man. I'm not capable of killing a man. I wanted to kill a tyrant.

Europe is no longer Europe, it is 'Eurabia,' a colony of Islam, where the Islamic invasion does not proceed only in a physical sense, but also in a mental and cultural sense.

I am a danger to myself if I get angry.

But here's what I've learned in this war, in this country, in this city: to love the miracle of having been born.