I Cling To My Imperfection, As The

Silence Is The Wit Of Fools.

You Think You Are Dying For Your Country; You Die For The Industrialists.

The Books That Everybody Admires Are Those That Nobody Reads.

Chance Is The Pseudonym God Uses When He'd Rather Not Sign His Own Name.

The Average Man Does Not Know What To Do With This Life, Yet Wants Another One Which Will Last Forever.