An Insatiable Appetite For Glory Leads To

A Poem Is Something Sacred. Let No One Take It For Anything Except Itself.

The Brave Forget. It Is Those Who Fought Less Bravely, Or Those Who Fought Without Justice And Live In Fear Of Their Victory, Who Forget The Least.

I Know That When The World Surrenders, Pallid, To Repose, The Murmur Of A Tranquil Stream Through The Deep Silence Flows.

The First Duty Of A Man Is To Think For Himself

He Who Does Not See Things In Their Depth Should Not Call Himself A Radical.