We're All Time's Captives, Hostages To Eternity.

Lara Walked Along The Tracks Following A Path Worn By Pilgrims And Then Turned Into The Fields. Here She Stopped And, Closing Her Eyes, Took A Deep Breath Of The Flower-scented Air Of The Broad Expanse Around Her. It Was Dearer To Her Than Her Kin, Better Than A Lover, Wiser Than A Book. For A Moment She Rediscovered The Purpose Of Her Life. She Was Here On Earth To Grasp The Meaning Of Its Wild Enchantment And To Call Each Thing By Its Right Name, Or, If This Were Not Within Her Power, To Give Birth Out Of Love For Life To Successors Who Would Do It In Her Place.

No Single Man Makes History. History Cannot Be Seen Just As One Cannot See Grass Growing.

But What Are Pity, Conscience, Or Fear To The Brazen Pair, Compared With The Living Sorcery Of Their Hot Embraces?

I Am Alone; All Drowns In The Pharisees' Hypocrisy. To Live Your Life Is Not As Simple As To Cross A Field.

Reshaping Life! People Who Can Say That Have Never Understood A Thing About Life—they Have Never Felt Its Breath, Its Heartbeat—however Much They Have Seen Or Done. They Look On It As A Lump Of Raw Material That Needs To Be Processed By Them, To Be Ennobled By Their Touch. But Life Is Never A Material, A Substance To Be Molded. If You Want To Know, Life Is The Principle Of Self-renewal, It Is Constantly Renewing And Remaking And Changing And Transfiguring Itself, It Is Infinitely Beyond Your Or My Obtuse Theories About It.