There, Where One Burns Books... One, In

It Is Only Kindred Griefs That Draw Forth Our Tears, And Each Weeps Really For Himself.

In These Times We Fight For Ideas And Newspapers Are Our Fortress.

As The Moon's Fair Image Quaketh In The Raging Waves Of Ocean, Whilst She, In The Vault Of Heaven, Moves With Silent Peaceful Motion.

Whether A Revolution Succeeds Or Fails People Of Great Hearts Will Always Be Sacrificed To It.

In Vain Would I Seek To Discover Why Sad And Mournful Am I, My Thoughts Without Ceasing Brood Over A Tale Of The Time Gone By.