The Past Not Merely Is Not Fugitive,

One Reads The Papers As One Wants To With A Bandage Over One's Eyes Without Trying To Understand The Facts, Listening To The Soothing Words Of The Editor As To The Words Of One S Mistress.

A Language Which We Do Not Know Is A Fortress Sealed.

Love...., Ever Unsatisfied, Lives Always In The Moment That Is About To Come.

Time Passes, And Little By Little Everything That We Have Spoken In Falsehood Becomes True.

For Theories And Schools, Like Microbes And Corpuscles, Devour One Another And By Their Strife Ensure The Continuity Of Life.