For One Thing, I Know

It Is Our Duty Never To Speak Ill Of Others, You Know; Least Of All When We Know That To Do So Will Be The Cause Of Much Pain And Trouble.

And Why Should Any Man Who Writes, Even If He Writes Things Immortal, Nurse Anger At The World's Neglect? Who Asked Him To Publish? Who Promised Him A Hearing? Who Has Broken Faith With Him? Your Poem, Your Novel, Who Bargained With You For It?

A Pipe For The Hour Of Work; A Cigarette For The Hour Of Conception; A Cigar For The Hour Of Vacuity.

I Am Much Better Employed From Every Point Of View, When I Live Solely For My Own Satisfaction, Than When I Begin To Worry About The World. The World Frightens Me, And A Frightened Man Is No Good For Anything.

For The Man Sound Of Body And Serene Of Mind There Is No Such Thing As Bad Weather; Every Day Has Its Beauty, And Storms Which Whip The Blood Do But Make It Pulse More Vigorously.