They Were Lovely, Your Eyes, But You

A Lion Is Made Up Of The Lambs He's Digested.

For Poetry There Exists Neither Large Countries Nor Small. Its Domain Is In The Heart Of All Men.

Like A Bird With Broken Wing That Has Traveled Through Wind For Years . . . I Sleep And My Heart Stays Awake . . .

They Were Lovely, Your Eyes, But You Didn't Know Where To Look.

Every Man Of Action Has A Strong Dose Of Egoism, Pride, Hardness, And Cunning. But All Those Things Will Be Regarded As High Qualities If He Can Make Them The Means To Achieve Great Ends.