I Am Sure That Instinctively We Wish

Only When One Is Able To Grasp Wideness Can One Possess It.

Happiness Is The Intoxication Produced By The Moment Of Poise Between A Satisfactory Past And An Immediate Future, Rich With Promise.

That Idea Of Escapism... These Words Could Sum Up My Life.

There Is Only One Valid Species Of Voyage, Which Is Walk Towards The Men.

I Refuse To Imprison Our Acts In The Rigid Mould Of Sentences.