Beauty is merciless. You do not look at it, it looks at you and does not forgive. - Nikos Kazantzakis

You are not a miserable and momentary body; behind your fleeting mask of clay, a thousand-year-old face lies in ambush. Your passions and your thoughts are older than your heart or brain.

You are not free. Myriad invisible hands hold your hands and direct them. When you rise in anger, a great-grandfather froths at your mouth; when you make love, an ancestral caveman growls with lust; when you sleep, tombs open in your memory till your skull brims with ghosts.

Αν δεν ξεχειλίσει η καρδιά του ανθρώπου από αγάπη ή από θυμό, τίποτα δεν μπορεί να γίνει στον κόσμο...