Style Is The Substance Of The Subject

I Think, Therefore I Doubt.

The Man Who Fights Against His Own Country Is Never A Hero.

Where Would The Shout Of Love Begin, If Not From The Summit Of Sacrifice?

Paris Is A Sum Total. Paris Is The Ceiling Of The Human Race. All This Prodigious City Is An Epitome Of Dead And Living Manners And Customs. He Who Sees Paris, Seems To See All History Through With The Sky And Constellations In The Intervals.

She Worked In Order To Live, And Presently Fell In Love, Also In Order To Live, For The Heart, Too, Has Its Hunger.