“Hell is a hell of a lie! God is not a torturer!”

Horizons will not come to you; you must go to the horizons!

I am against the florists and floristry! Let the flowers not be the toys of our pleasures!

The best thing about Valentine’s Day is that if you don’t have a lover, you badly remember to get one!

All we do is to rise and to fall; and in between these two activities, we sleep!

Failure knocks the door of the unprepared minds very often.

The power of every dictator has two main sources: His psychopathic mind and the support of the very easily deceivable ignorant masses!

Winter invites white; white invites silence; silence invites peace. You see, there is so much peace in walking on the snow!

There are moments where the mighty death feels itself desperate too! To see the trees growing in solid rocks is one of these moments!

Pigs are dirty, but I will tell you something dirtier: Liars! Untruth always smells like rotten garbage!

Let us be happy too when we see a happy man, because happiness is a candle light in this dark universe!

The good may lose; the bad may win! Remember this! Because knowing this increases the chance of the good to win!

To reach the goals of your life, you need discipline, you need luck and you need something as important as these two: Vacations!

We can’t see and we can’t reach the frontiers of our ignorance; we can only approach to it by extending our knowledge.

We may like the honey without liking the bee, but this will not be ethical!

For serenity, always prefer the cottage to the palace!

The greatest masters are the greatest apprentices as well; they are not only greatest givers but also greatest takers.

They can romanticize us so, mirrors, and that is their secret: what a subtle torture it would be to destroy all the mirrors in the world: where then could we look for reassurance of our identities?

Who tortures our mind – Other people or we ourselves?

For a woman, forty is torture, the end.

We, humans, are so tortured by not properly guessing what will make us happy.

Where shall I turn, what shall I do?’ are the voices of people grieving. Idleness is torture. In all times and places, nature abhors a vacuum.

I’ll allow for this pain to bleed from my pen onto the paper to relieve the pressure from my tortured mind.

Doctors cut, burn, and torture the sick, and then demand of them an undeserved fee for such services.

Profound optimism is always on the side of the tortured.