Envy Is Ignorance, Imitation Is

We Walk Alone In The World. Friends, Such As We Desire, Are Dreams And Fables.

The Reason Of Idleness And Of Crime Is The Deferring Of Our Hopes.

Evermore In The World Is This Marvelous Balance Of Beauty And Disgust, Magnificence And Rats.

There Are Geniuses In Trade As Well As In War, Or The State, Or Letters; And The Reason Why This Or That Man Is Fortunate Is Not To Be Told. It Lies In The Man: That Is All Anybody Can Tell You About It.

Is All Literature Eavesdropping, And All Art Chinese Imitation? Our Life A Custom, And Our Body Borrowed, Like A Beggar’s Dinner, From A Hundred Charities?