Everything We Do Is Tinged

Sleep Is Uncanny, I Have Always Found It So, A Nightly Dress-rehearsal For Being Dead.

I Dont Know If There Is A Personal Identity. We All Imagine That We Are Absolute Individuals. But When We Begin To Look For Where This Individuality Resides, Its Very Difficult To Find.

What Is Money, After All? Almost Nothing, When One Has A Sufficiency Of It.

I'm A Hopeless 19th-century Romantic.

Perhaps All Of Life Is No More Than A Long Preparation For The Leaving Of It.