Oh What Lies There Are In Kisses!

A Blaspheming Frenchman Is A Spectacle More Pleasing To The Lord Than A Praying Englishman.

Ask Me Not What I Have, But What I Am.

You Talk Of Our Having An Idea; We Do Not Have An Idea. The Idea Has Us, And Martyrs Us, And Scourges Us, And Drives Us Into The Arena To Fight And Die For It, Whether We Want To Or Not.

I Live, Which Is The Main Point.

There, Where One Burns Books... One, In The End, Burns Men.