All Roads Lead To The Earth; The

Happy The Youth Who Believes That His Duty Is To Remake The World And Bring It More In Accord With Virtue And Justice, More In Accord With His Own Heart. Woe To Whoever Commences His Life Without Lunacy.

Time Is Round, And It Rolls Quickly.

The Only Thing I Know Is This: I Am Full Of Wounds And Still Standing On My Feet.

Whoever Climbed The Lord's Mountain Had To Possess Clean Hands And An Innocent Heart; Otherwise The Summit Would Kill Him. Today The Doorway Is Deserted. Soiled Hands And Sinful Hearts Are Able To Pass By Without Fear, For The Summit Kills No Longer.

In Religions Which Have Lost Their Creative Spark, The Gods Eventually Become No More Than Poetic Motifs Or Ornaments For Decorating Human Solitude And Walls.