When people love each other, when they find each other out of thousands and millions of people. It's always destiny.

And the simple people are trash. A herd of sheep that are good for shearing, but sometimes it's more profitable to slaughter them.

What was my truth worth, if I was prepared to defend the entire world, but not those who were close to me? If I subdued hate, but wouldn't give love a chance?

That's how myths are born. Out of our carelessness, out of our tattered nerves, out of jokes that go wrong and flashy gestures.

For every prophet there are a thousand interpreters to distort the essence of the religion, to replace the bright flame with the heat of the inquisitors' pyres.

Nobody can be forced to commit an act of villainy. You can't push anybody into the mud; people always step into it themselves.

When people love each other, when they find each other out of thousands and millions of people. It's always destiny.