The Milky Way is nothing else but a mass of innumerable stars planted together in clusters.
International business may conduct its operations with scraps of paper, but the ink it uses is human blood.
The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal - every other affliction to forget: but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open - this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude.