Love Is, Above All, The

Poor Little Men, Poor Little Cocks! As Soon As They're Old Enough, They Swell Their Plumage To Be Conquerors. If They Only Knew That It's Enough To Be Just A Little Bit Wounded And Sad In Order To Obtain Everything Without Fighting For It.

Propaganda Is A Soft Weapon; Hold It In Your Hands Too Long, And It Will Move About Like A Snake, And Strike The Other Way.

Life Is Very Nice, But It Lacks Form. It's The Aim Of Art To Give It Some.

Beauty, Real Beauty, Is Something Very Grave. If There Is A God, He Must Be Partly That.

Listen, My Friend, There Are Two Races Of Beings. The Masses Teeming And Happy - Common Clay, If You Like - Eating, Breeding, Working, Counting Their Pennies; People Who Just Live; Ordinary People; People You Can't Imagine Dead. And Then There Are The Others - The Noble Ones, The Heroes. The Ones You Can Quite Well Imagine Lying Shot, Pale And Tragic; One Minute Triumphant With A Guard Of Honor, And The Next Being Marched Away Between Two Gendarmes