You ask me what forces me to speak? a strange thing; my conscience.
Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.
A great artist is a great man in a great child.
A smile is the same as sunshine; it banishes winter from the human countenance.
Every body drags its shadow, and every mind its doubt.
Who then can calculate the path of the molecule? how do we know that the creations of worlds are not determined by the fall of grains of sand?