Life Yields Only To The Conqueror.

Acts Of Violence-- Whether On A Large Or A Small Scale, The Bitter Paradox: The Meaningfulness Of Death--and The Meaninglessness Of Killing.

Each Morning We Must Hold Out The Chalice Of Our Being To Receive, To Carry, And Give Back. It Must Be Held Out Empty - For The Past Must Only Be Reflected In Its Polish, Its Shape, Its Capacity.

Everything Will Be All Right - You Know When? When People, Just People, Stop Thinking Of The United Nations As A Weird Picasso Abstraction And See It As A Drawing They Made Themselves.

The Dizziness In The Face Of Les Espaces Infinis--only Overcome If We Dare To Gaze Into Them Without Any Protection. And Accept Them As The Reality Before Which We Must Justify Our Existence. For This Is The Truth We Must Reach To Live, That Everything Is And We Just In It.

Smiling, Sincere, Incorruptible - His Body Disciplined And Limber. A Man Who Had Become What He Could, And Was What He Was- Ready At Any Moment To Gather Everything Into One Simple Sacrifice.