Where I Live, Everything Is Very Small.

Are Wars... Anything But The Means Whereby A Nation's Problems Are Set, Where Creation Is Stimulated - There You Have Adventure. But There Is No Adventure In Heads-or-tails, In Betting That The Toss Will Come Out Of Life Or Death. War Is Not An Adventure. It Is A Disease. It Is Like Typhus.

Peace Is Present When Things Form Part Of A Whole Greater Than Their Sum, As The Diverse Minerals In The Ground Collect To Become The Tree.

Each Man Carries Within Him The Soul Of A Poet Who Died Young.

You Know...my Flower...i'm Responsible For Her. And She's So Weak! And So Naive. She Has Four Ridiculous Thorns To Defend Her Against The World.

The Airplane Has Unveiled For Us The True Face Of The Earth.