For, To Conceited Men, All

The Field Of Consciousness Is Tiny. It Accepts Only One Problem At A Time. Get Into A Fist Fight, Put Your Mind On The Strategy Of The Fight, And You Will Not Feel The Other Fellow's Punches.

You Become Responsible For A Long Time For What You've Tamed.

When Someone Blushes, Doesn't That Mean 'yes'?

But If You Tame Me, My Life Will Be Filled With Sunshine. I'll Know The Sound Of Footsteps That Will Be Different From All The Rest. Others Send Me Back Underground. Yours Will Call Me Out Of My Burrow Like Music.

Defeat Is A Thing Of Weariness, Of Incoherence, Of Boredom, And Above All Futility.