But when we set out to understand somebody’s inside? Is that a trip that ever ends? Is the soul a place of facts? Or are the alleged facts only the deceptive shadows of our stories?

Given that we can live only a small part of what there is in us -- what happens with the rest?

We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.

We are stratified creatures, creatures full of abysses, with a soul of inconstant quicksilver, with a mind whose color and shape change as in a kaleidoscope that is constantly shaken.

When dictatorship is a fact, revolution is a duty!

Life is not what we live; it is what we imagine we are living.

Loyalty... A will, a decision, a resolution of the soul.

A feeling is no longer the same when it comes the second time. It dies through the awareness of its return. We become tired and weary of our feelings when they come too often and last too long.

There were people who read and there were the others. Whether you were the a reader or a non-reader was soon apparent. There was no greater distinction between people.

So, the fear of death might be described as the fear of not being able to become whom one had planned to be.

Isn't it true that it's not people who meet, but rather the shadows cast by their imaginations?

It isn't about who is 'for' or 'against' you, it's about who you are for.

The powerful have no monopoly on greed, hatred, fear, or ignorance.

We do the best we can in life, we take things one day at a time and sometimes we all just need a simple reminder of that.

You can't take back an act you were able to think.

In fact, allowing immigrants to have licenses actually improves homeland security by allowing our government to track who is in our borders.

Art quickens nature; care will make a face; Neglected beauty perisheth apace.

We are tricked by a phenomenon of time: hours and days pass slowly, but years pass quickly.

Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.

Oh, that way madness lies; let me shun that.