Left love behind many years ago. Now it rests under a cross in the cemetery in Tombstone.

It is upon such stones that men attempt to permanently etch history so they will not exist in a vacuum; it is the final statement after a lifetime of scratching out divisions upon the ground, over ephemeral time itself, merely to give their short journeys meaning, to tell others “I was here – do not forget me, do not let my brief blast dissolve into nothingness.

I'm crazy about westerns. I need to do a western once in a while. It's like you know, eating bread, eating pasta, drinking wine. It's in my blood. I need it.

When I entered the monastery I wanted to be alone. Now I believe that men should worry about the world they leave for their children.

You're the one who likes cigars right? Try smoking this.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're about to die.