When a man is in love, jealous, and just whipped by the Inquisition, he is no longer himself.
History consists of a series of accumulated imaginative inventions.
Happiness is a good that nature sells us.
Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.
History is only the pattern of silken slippers descending the stairs to the thunder of hobnailed boots climbing upward from below.
Being a bird ain't all about flying and shitting from high places.