We Are All Special Cases.

To Two Men Living The Same Number Of Years, The World Always Provides The Same Sum Of Experiences. It Is Up To Us To Be Conscious Of Them.

At That Moment He Knew What His Mother Was Thinking, And That She Loved Him. But He Knew, Too, That To Love Someone Means Relatively Little; Or, Rather, That Love Is Never Strong Enough To Find The Words Befitting It. Thus He And His Mother Would Always Love Each Other Silently. And One Day She--or He--would Die, Without Ever, All Their Lives Long, Having Gone Farther Than This By Way Of Making Their Affection Known.

It Is Always Easy To Be Logical. It Is Almost Impossible To Be Logical To The Bitter End.

Happiness Is Not Everything And Men Have Their Duties. Mine Is To Find My Mother, A Homeland

Life Is Meaningless, But Worth Living, Provided You Recognize It's Meaningless.