The Truth must dazzle gradually or every man be blind.

Like the soil$$$ mind is fertilized while it lies fallow$$$ until a new burst of bloom ensues.

The good man is the man who$$$ no matter how morally unworthy he has been$$$ is moving to become better.

Somewhere deep down there's a decent man in me$$$ he just can't be found.

I asked myself childish questions and proceeded to answer them.

Friends show their love in times of trouble$$$ not in happiness.

The only certainty is death.

As a rule$$$ the more bizarre a thing is$$$ the less mysterious it proves to be.

I do not argue with obstinate men. I act in spite of them.

He could be ruined again and again by hope$$$ but he would never be capable of belief.