“History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man.”
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Obscenity, which is ever blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, is a monster for which the corruption of society forever brings forth new food, which it devours in secret.
Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.
Change is certain. Peace is followed by disturbances departure of evil men by their return. Such recurrences should not constitute occasions for sadness but realities for awareness, so that one may be happy in the interim.
In a drama of the highest order there is little food for censure or hatred it teaches rather self-knowledge and self-respect.