Salvador Penderel

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Nelou Keramati
“And to think of all the colors in the world, blood chose to be red.”
Nelou Keramati

Todor Bombov
“Just like the myth of the people’s or popular capitalism, which was propagated since the mid1950s in the countries to the west of Berlin Wall, to the east and the north of it, since the same time it was introduced the myth of the people’s or popular socialism. But the suggestion is always the same. Under any “people’s” power—from people’s capitalism to people’s socialism—the greatest illusion suggested to the oppressed classes is that the people are sovereign, i.e., that all the people dominate over themselves. In this respect, even John Kenneth Galbraith makes Marxist conclusions, which even in the Internet epoch have the same power: “Young people are suggested that in a democracy the entire power belongs to the people!” (“The Anatomy of Power”)
Yet, old people know that this is not true!”
Todor Bombov, Socialism Is Dead! Long Live Socialism!: The Marx Code-Socialism with a Human Face

Max Nowaz
“He was planning to take my shape and marry you. Then he was going to kill your father and take over his business empire."
    "And you? What are your plans?"
    "I have no plans to kill your father.”
Max Nowaz, The Polymorph

Michael G. Kramer
“After March in 1945, the Japanese felt threatened by possibility of the people of Indochina rising against them. Therefore, they stated:
“We of the Imperial Japanese Army have only invaded other Asian countries in order to remove the European and American white man from Asia! Stick with us Japanese and together we shall make Asians great while we kick the whites out of the entire region!”

(A Gracious Enemy & After the War Volume Two)”
Michael G. Kramer

K.  Ritz
“This evening I spied her in the back orchard. I decided to sacrifice one of my better old shirts and carried it out to her. The weather’s been warm of late. Buds on the apple trees are ready to burst. Usually by this time of the year, at that time of day, the back orchard is full of screaming children. Damut’s boys were the only two. They were on the terrace below her, running through the slanted sunlight, chasing each other around tree trunks. She stood above them, like a merlin watching rabbits play.”
K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

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