Whatever Tears One May Shed, In The

Sweet May Hath Come To Love Us, Flowers, Trees, Their Blossoms Don; And Through The Blue Heavens Above Us The Very Clouds Move On.

Oh, They Loved Dearly: Their Souls Kissed, They Kissed With Their Eyes, They Were Both But One Single Kiss.

The Same Fact That Boccaccio Offers In Support Of Religion Might Be Adduced In Behalf Of A Republic: "it Exists In Spite Of Its Ministers.

Wherever Books Are Burned, Human Beings Are Destined To Be Burned Too.

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