Joy Came Always After Pain.

Color Is The Fruit Of Life.

I Love Men, Not For What Unites Them, But For What Divides Them, And I Want To Know Most Of All What Gnaws At Their Hearts.

My, How Beautiful Is War! Its Songs, Its Leisure!

It's Raining My Soul, It's Raining, But It's Raining Dead Eyes.

I Sing The Joy Of Wandering And The Pleasure Of The Wanderer's Death