You Women Could Make Someone Fall In

Revolution Calls My Name. I Will Soon Dwell In Nothingness, And My Name Will Be In The Pantheon Of History.

The Strides Of Humanity Are Slow, They Can Only Be Counted In Centuries.

Revolution Is Like Saturn, It Devours Its Own Children.

Death Is The Most Blessed Dream.

And For Tired Eyes Every Light Is Too Bright, And For Tired Lips Every Breath Too Heavy, And For Tired Ears Every Word Too Much.