An Unshared Happiness Is Not

He Realised, More Vividly Than Ever Before, That Art Had Two Constant, Two Unending Preoccupations: It Is Always Meditating Upon Death And It Is Always Thereby Creating Life.

In Every Generation There Has To Be Some Fool Who Will Speak The Truth As He Sees It.

Good-bye... Why Am I Hemorrhaging ?

As Far As Modern Writing Is Concerned, It Is Rarely Rewarding To Translate It, Although It Might Be Easy. Translation Is Very Much Like Copying Paintings.

I Used To Be Very Revolutionary, But Now I Think That Nothing Can Be Gained By Brute Force. People Must Be Drawn To Good By Goodness.