We Are All Geniuses When We Dream.

On Creating — What We Crave, What We Want To See In Others Eyes, Is That Servile Expression, An Unconcealed Infatuation With Our Gestures.

The Fear Of Your Own Solitude, Of Its Vast Surface And Its Infinity… Remorse Is The Voice Of Solitude. And What Does This Whispering Voice Say? Everything In Us That Is Not Human Anymore.

What Are You Waiting For In Order To Give Up?

In Order To Have The Stuff Of A Tyrant, A Certain Mental Derangement Is Necessary.

The True Hero Fights And Dies In The Name Of His Destiny, And Not In The Name Of A Belief.