For Once You Must Try Not To

A Theater Without Beer Is Just A Museum

The Rain Never Falls Upwards. When The Wound Stops Hurting What Hurts Is The Scar.

The First Time It Was Reported That Our Friends Were Being Butchered There Was A Cry Of Horror. Then A Hundred Were Butchered. But When A Thousand Were Butchered And There Was No End To The Butchery, A Blanket Of Silence Spread. When Evil-doing Comes Like Falling Rain, Nobody Calls Out "stop!" When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Love Is The Desire To Give, Not To Receive, Something. Love Is The Art Of Producing Something With The Other's Talents.

The Fate Of Man Is Man.