The sweetest little song: You go your way$$$ I'll go your way too!

Time obliterates the fictions of opinion and confirms the decisions of nature.

If it's bitter at the start$$$ then it's sweeter in the end.

One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one.

The beginning of things$$$ of a world$$$ especially is necessarily vague$$$ tangled$$$ chaotic$$$ and exceedingly disturbing.

Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.

Children and geniuses know that there is no bridge$$$ only the water that lets itself be crossed.

Down these mean streets$$$ a man must go who is neither tarnished nor afraid.

Art seems to me to be a state of soul more than anything else.

Love and fantasy$$$ go hand in hand.