Brazil Is Where I Have To Be,

For Only When I Err Do I Get Away From What I Know And What I Understand. If "truth" Were What I Can Understand, It Would End Up Being But A Small Truth, My-sized. Truth Must Reside Precisely In What I Shall Never Understand.

The World's Continual Breathing Is What We Hear And Call Silence.

The Mystery Of Human Destiny Is That We Are Fated, But That We Have The Freedom To Fulfill Or Not Fulfill Our Fate: Realization Of Our Fated Destiny Depends On Us. While Inhuman Beings Like The Cockroach Realize The Entire Cycle Without Going Astray Because They Make No Choices.

No It Is Not Easy To Write. It Is As Hard As Breaking Rocks. Sparks And Splinters Fly Like Shattered Steel.

Who Has Not Asked Himself At Some Time Or Other: Am I A Monster Or Is This What It Means To Be A Person?