There Are A Lot Of

A Man Used To Riding In A Car Cannot Understand A Pedestrian.

Bless You Prison, Bless You For Being In My Life. For There, Lying Upon The Rotting Prison Straw, I Came To Realize That The Object Of Life Is Not Prosperity As We Are Made To Believe, But The Maturity Of The Human Soul.

Power Is A Poison Well Known For Thousands Of Years. If Only No One Were Ever To Acquire Material Power Over Others! But To The Human Being Who Has Faith In Some Force That Holds Dominion Over All Of Us, And Who Is Therefore Conscious Of His Own Limitations, Power Is Not Necessarily Fatal. For Those, However, Who Are Unaware Of Any Higher Sphere, It Is A Deadly Poison. For Them There Is No Antidote.

Only The First Swath Cut By The Scythe Is Difficult.

I Insist On Believing That Beauty Elevates Human Beings.