Do You Know, André, I

In Endeavor Itself There Is A Certain Dynamic Entertainment, Affording An Illusion Of Useful Purpose. With Achievement The Illusion Is Dispelled. Man's Greatest Accomplishment Is To Produce Change. The Only Good In Life Is Study, Because Study Is An Endeavor That Never Reaches Fulfillment. It Busies A Man To The End Of His Days, And It Aims At The Only True Reality In All This World Of Shams And Deceits.

There Remained The Sea, Which Is Free To All, And Particularly Alluring To Those Who Feel Themselves At War With Humanity.

An Intelligent Observation Of The Facts Of Human Existence Will Reveal To Shallow-minded Folk Who Sneer At The Use Of Coincidence In The Arts Of Fiction And Drama That Life Itself Is Little More Than A Series Of Coincidences.

It Came To Mr. Blood, As He Trudged Forward Under The Laden Apple-trees On That Fragrant, Delicious July Morning, That Man—as He Had Long Suspected—was The Vilest Work Of God, And That Only A Fool Would Set Himself Up As A Healer Of A Species That Was Best Exterminated.

He Was Born With A Gift Of Laughter And A Sense That The World Was Mad.