I saw the dead without really seeing them.

How happy I am to go to the front at last. To do my bit. To prove with my life what I think I feel.

And suddenly, like light in darkness, the real truth broke in upon me; the simple fact of Man, which I had forgotten, which had lain deep buried and out of sight; the idea of community, of unity.

As a boy I used to go to the Chamber of Horrors at the annual fair, to look at the wax figures of Emperors and Kings, of heroes and murderers of the day. The dead now had that same unreality, which shocks without arousing pity.

The working class will not halt until socialism has been realized.

Soldiers and peasants lived together on friendly terms; they knew each other and their everyday routines, and trusted each other; they shook their heads together over the war.

Gradually I became aware of details: a company of French soldiers was marching through the streets of the town. They broke formation, and went in single file along the communication trench leading to the front line. Another group followed them.

Each had defended his own country; the Germans Germany, the Frenchmen France; they had done their duty.

We thrust our fingers into our ears to stop its moan; but it was no good; the cry cut like a drill into our heads, dragging minutes into hours, hours into years. We withered and grew old between those cries.

Slogans which deafened us so that we could not hear the truth.

We revolutionaries acknowledge the right to revolution when we see that the situation is no longer tolerable, that it has become a frozen. Then we have the right to overthrow it.

I saw the dead without really seeing them.

The revolution is like a vessel filled with the pulsating heartbeat of millions of working people.

Later we learned that it was one of our own men hanging on the wire. Nobody could do anything for him; two men had already tried to save him, only to be shot themselves.

At that moment of realization I knew that I had been blind because I had wished not to see; it was only then that I realised, at last, that all these dead men, French and Germans, were brothers, and I was the brother of them all.

After that I could never pass a dead man without stopping to gaze on his face, stripped by death of that earthly patina which masks the living soul. And I would ask, who were you? Where was your home? Who is mourning for you now?

Most people have no imagination. If they could imagine the sufferings of others, they would not make them suffer so. What separated a German mother from a French mother?

And the spirit of revolution will not die while the hearts of these workers continue to beat.

I think the idea of art kills creativity.

I'm a girl who loves fashion. I'm such a Cinderella - I love to put on a great dress and heels. It's fun!

The Social Wishlist on Facebook is a great example of everything right about social media.

Theres a world out there that nobody has bothered to promise her.

I always respected Neil Armstrong highly. He was probably the coolest under pressure of anyone I ever had the privilege of flying with. I never saw him flustered.

The operation of the Church is entirely set up for the sinner which creates much misunderstanding among the smug.

Easter says you can put truth in a grave, but it won't stay there. You can nail it to a cross, wrap it in winding sheets and shut it up in a tomb, but it will rise!

By the time I'm done with my show, I'm in Never-Never Land. Usually I leave the room for the auction and try to chill out.

I knew I wanted to be a performer, but I didn't know I would specifically be in film. I actually never thought I would be in film. I always envisioned being on the stage.

I was definitely living fast. I was working, traveling a lot, playing. I didn't stop. It all became unbalanced.

It has become evident that the primary lesson of the study of evolution is that all evolution is coevolution every organism is evolving in tandem with the organisms around it.

An artist must possess Nature. He must identify himself with her rhythm, by efforts that will prepare the mastery which will later enable him to express himself in his own language.

He who integrates is lost.

Pavel Durov only knows how to copy great products like Facebook and 'WhatsApp'; he never had and will never have original ideas.

When I think of the books I love, there's always a little laughter in the dark.

On planning “ What is truth today may be falsehood tomorrow. Never confuse your plan with truth.

I won't let people write anything they want to about me.

Help each other. Love everyone. Every leaf. Every ray of light. Forgive.

I would be in a room full of people being loud and running around, and I'd be in the corner just playing with the wall. So I was very, very quiet, but when I really got into the arts, that opened me up.

Colors fade, temples crumble, empires fall, but wise words endure.

I had classical training but I don't consider myself an opera singer though.

The first lesson I've learned is that no matter what you do in your life, you have to figure out your own internal rhythms.

When people write things on the Internet about me that aren't true, it's tough to deal with. Even if you're the most mellow person in the world, stuff like that bothers you eventually.

It's easy for a singer to sometimes pick up on another singer's sound, but that's just copying.