Come In, Dear Wind, And

To Live Means To Finesse The Processes To Which One Is Subjugated.

The Aim Of Science Is Not To Open The Door To Infinite Wisdom, But To Set A Limit To Infinite Error.

When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Righteous People Have No Sense Of Humor.

Love Is The Desire To Give, Not To Receive, Something. Love Is The Art Of Producing Something With The Other's Talents.