If, In New York, You Arrive Late

The Art Of Growing Old Is The Art Of Being Regarded By The Oncoming Generations As A Support And Not As A Stumbling-block...

We Owe To The Middle Ages The Two Worst Inventions Of Humanity - Romantic Love And Gunpowder.

Like A Bird, When His Cage Is Opened, Stays On His Perch, Dazzled By Freedom, The Postponed Traveler Does Not See That His Cage, With Its Bars Of Anxiety, It Is Open.

The Effectiveness Of Work Increases According To Geometric Progression If There Are No Interruptions.

Lost Illusion Is The Undisclosed Title Of Every Novel.