True Eloquence Forgoes Eloquence.

A Work Of Art Is An Exaggeration.

Old Hands Soil, It Seems, Whatever They Caress, But They Too Have Their Beauty When They Are Joined In Prayer. Young Hands Were Made For Caresses And The Sheathing Of Love. It Is A Pity To Make Them Join Too Soon.

The Pettiness Of A Mind Can Be Measured By The Pettiness Of Its Adoration Or Its Blasphemy.

To What A Degree The Same Past Can Leave Different Marks - And Especially Admit Of Different Interpretations.

I Can't Expect Others To Share My Virtues. It's Good Enough For Me If They Share My Vices.