The Sky Is One Whole, The Water

Nevertheless, In This Sea Of Human Wretchedness And Malice There Bloomed At Times Compassion, As A Pale Flower Blooms In A Putrid Marsh.

There Is Within Us A Moral Instinct Which Forbids Us To Rejoice At The Death Of Even An Enemy.

I Know That Even The Meanest Person Has Still At His Disposition High-sounding Words Wherewith To Mask His Real Character.

The Shots Had Dispersed The Birds; There Remained Only Two Marabous, Standing Between Ten And Twenty Paces Away And Plunged In Reverie. They Were Like Two Old Men With Bald Heads Pressed Between The Shoulders.

Evidently The Merit Depends On The Result Of The Work.