Once In The Midst Of A Seemingly

All I Know Of Morality I Learned From Football

The Innocent Is The Person Who Explains Nothing

There Is Merely Bad Luck In Not Being Loved; There Is Misfortune In Not Loving. All Of Us, Today, Are Dying Of This Misfortune. For Violence And Hatred Dry Up The Heart Itself; The Long Fight For Justice Exhausts The Love That Nevertheless Gave Birth To It.

Truth Is Not A Virtue, But A Passion. It Is Never Charitable.

The Primordial Sea Indefatigably Repeats The Same Words And Casts Up The Same Astonished Beings On The Same Sea-shore.