She was thinking of many things, for to her the thread of life was not broken by Death, but kept winding along calmly and evenly.

Death augments distance and dulls the memory. Death reconciles.

Perhaps her mind simply did not want to stop at one thought – just as a bird that soars with ease, which sees endless horizons, and to which all space, all the depth, all the joy of the soft and caressing azure are accessible.

Do you not see the hand of God, which gives harmony, light, and love to the world? Do not the mountains, in the blue cloud of incense, sing their hymn of glory?

The moon was so young, so strange, even as a young girl who is dreaming and is afraid to tell her dreams; and it was shining only for itself.

Rome fell silently to ruins. A New city rose in its place, and it was too erased by emptiness. Like phantom Giants, cities, kingdoms, and countries swiftly fell and disappeared into emptiness – swallowed up in the black maw of the Infinite.

It’s a powerful instrument, dynamite – nothing like it for a convincing argument!

I do not want to lie so rudely and ungracefully. I will lie to you elsewhere, when you least expect it, and that will be far more interesting for both of us.

The loss of reason in war seems to me honorable, like the death of a sentry at his post.

Thus will we deal with life, my little help-meet. Will we not, eh? What though it blink at us like an owl that is blinded by the sun, we will yet force it to smile.