Everywhere Resoundeth The Voices Of Those Who

I Know My Fate. One Day My Name Will Be Associated With The Memory Of Something Tremendous — A Crisis Without Equal On Earth, The Most Profound Collision Of Conscience, A Decision That Was Conjured Up Against Everything That Had Been Believed, Demanded, Hallowed So Far. I Am No Man, I Am Dynamite.

Most Thinkers Write Badly, Because They Communicate Not Only Their Thoughts, But Also The Thinking Of Them.

There Is Nothing We Like To Communicate To Others As Much As The Seal Of Secrecy Together With What Lies Under It.

He Has Drawn Back, Only In Order To Have Enough Room For His Leap

Love, Too, Has To Be Learned.