One Cannot Weep For The

Believe Me; All Evil Comes From The Old. They Grow Fat On Ideas And Young Men Die Of Them.

Love Is, Above All, The Gift Of Oneself.

Until The Day Of His Death No Man Can Be Sure Of His Courage.

All Prisons Are Brimming Over With Innocence. It Is Those Who Cram Their Fellows Into Them, In The Name Of Empty Ideas, Who Are The Only Guilty Ones.

Life Is A Wonderful Thing To Talk About, Or To Read About In History Books - But It Is Terrible When One Has To Live It.