Tomorrow At 7, I Shall Be Shot;

I Have To Believe Much In God Because I Have Lost My Faith In Man.

While A People Preserves Its Language; It Preserves The Marks Of Liberty.

Oh How Beautiful To Fall To Give You Flight, To Die To Give You Life, To Rest Under Your Sky; And In Your Enchanted Land Forever Sleep.

Genius Has No Country. It Blossoms Everywhere. Genius Is Like The Light, The Air. It Is The Heritage Of All.

What Is Death To Me? I Have Sown The Seeds Others Will Reap.