If One Has No Heart, One Cannot

The Propaganda Of Communism Possesses A Language Which Every People Can Understand. Its Elements Are Simply Hunger, Envy, Death.

The Blossoms And Leaves In Plenty From The Apple Tree Fall Each Day; The Merry Breezes Approach Them, And With Them Merrily Play.

Sleep Is Good, Death Is Better; But Of Course, The Best Thing Would To Have Never Been Born At All.

Music Is A Strange Thing. I Would Almost Say It Is A Miracle.

Experience Is A Good School. But The Fees Are High.