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

He Who Fears To Venture As Far As His Heart Urges And His Reason Permits, Is A Coward; He Who Ventures Further Than He Intended To Go, Is A Slave.

Since The Exodus, Freedom Has Always Spoken With A Hebrew Accent.

And Over The Pond Are Sailing Two Swans All White As Snow; Sweet Voices Mysteriously Wailing Pierce Through Me As Onward They Go. They Sail Along, And A Ringing Sweet Melody Rises On High; And When The Swans Begin Singing, They Presently Must Die.

Das War Ein Vorspeil Nur; That Was Only A Prelude; Dort Wo Man Buecher Verbrennt, Where One Burns Books, Vebrennt Man Auch Am Ende One Will Also Burn People Menchen. Eventually.

The Gazelles So Gentle And Clever Skip Lightly In Frolicsome Mood.