One Drop Of Wine Is Enough To

A Bird Sings, A Child Prattles, But It Is The Same Hymn; Hymn Indistinct, Inarticulate, But Full Of Profound Meaning.

Peace Is The Virtue Of Civilization. War Is Its Crime.

She Was Sad With An Obscure Sadness Of Which She Had Not The Secret Herself. There Was In Her Whole Person The Stupor Of A Life Ended But Never Commenced.

Amnesty Is As Good For Those Who Give It As For Those Who Receive It. It Has The Admirable Quality Of Bestowing Mercy On Both Sides.

Who Then Understands The Reciprocal Flux And Reflux Of The Infinitely Great And The Infinitely Small, The Echoing Of Causes In The Abysses Of Being, And The Avalanches Of Creation?