By Walking One Makes The Road, And

Hell Is The Bloodcurdling Mansion Of Time, In Whose Profoundest Circle Satan Himself Waits, Winding A Gargantuan Watch In His Hand.

There Is No One So Bound To His Own Face That He Does Not Cherish The Hope Of Presenting Another To The World.

Travelers, There Is No Path, Paths Are Made By Walking.

All Uncertainty Is Fruitfull ... So Long As It Is Accompanied By The Wish To Understand

Only A Fool Thinks Price And Value Are The Same.