All things fall and are built again, and those that build them again are gay

Sometimes that light at the end of the tunnel is a train.

God is our refuge, nothing will be formed against us. God is our every strength in battle.....

Our expression and our words never coincide, which is why the animals don&#39;t understand us.

The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs.

The flower is a jumble of thighs, the sun&#39;s harem - the most oriental thing imaginable.

The idealist walks on tiptoe, the materialist on his heels.

Written By Malcolm de Chazal