Talent Is Like A Faucet, While It

Death Has To Be Waiting At The End Of The Ride Before You Truly See The Earth, And Feel Your Heart, And Love The World.

Beauty, Real Beauty, Is Something Very Grave. If There Is A God, He Must Be Partly That.

Poor Little Men, Poor Little Cocks! As Soon As They're Old Enough, They Swell Their Plumage To Be Conquerors. If They Only Knew That It's Enough To Be Just A Little Bit Wounded And Sad In Order To Obtain Everything Without Fighting For It.

The True Masters Of The Art Of Living Are Already Happy.

One Can Be A Patriot, You Know, Without Making One's Wife Join The Breadline.