Forgiving Is Forgetting, In Spite Of Remembering.

If Even Dying Is To Be Made A Social Function, Then, Grant Me The Favor Of Sneaking Out On Tiptoe Without Disturbing The Party.

Friendship Needs No Words.

The Light Died In The Low Clouds. Falling Snow Drank In The Dusk. Shrouded In Silence, The Branches Wrapped Me In Their Peace. When The Boundaries Were Erased, Once Again The Wonder: That *i* Exist.

For The Sacrificed, In The Hour Of Sacrifice, Only One Thing Counts: Faith-alone Among Enemies And Skeptics. Faith, In Spite Of The Humiliation Which Is Both The Necessary Precondition And The Consequence Of Faith, Faith Without Any Hope Of Compensation Other Than He Can Find In A Faith Which Reality Seems So Thoroughly To Refute.

Everything Will Be All Right - You Know When? When People, Just People, Stop Thinking Of The United Nations As A Weird Picasso Abstraction And See It As A Drawing They Made Themselves.