It is the perpetual dread of fear, the fear of fear, that shapes the face of a brave man.
The first sign of corruption in a society that is still alive is that the end justifies the means.
A poor man with nothing in his belly needs hope, illusion, more than bread.
Hope is a risk that must be run.
Hell, madam, is to love no longer.
Faith is not a thing which one 'loses,' we merely cease to shape our lives by it.
Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.