Virtue Has A Veil, Vice A Mask.

Separated Lovers Cheat Absence By A Thousand Fancies Which Have Their Own Reality. They Are Prevented From Seeing One Another And They Cannot Write; Nevertheless They Find Countless Mysterious Ways Of Corresponding, By Sending Each Other The Song Of Birds, The Scent Of Flowers, The Laughter Of Children.

To Die Is Nothing; But It Is Terrible Not To Live.

There Are Plenty Who Regard A Wall Behind Which Something Is Happening As A Very Curious Thing.

In Every Cradle Decked With Rosy Wreath Lurk Germs Of Death.

I Represent A Party Which Does Not Yet Exist: The Party Revolution-civilization. This Party Will Make The Twentieth Century. There Will Issue From It First The United States Of Europe, Then The United States Of The World.