He Thought What A Fine

Time Has No Divisions To Mark Its Passage, There Is Never A Thunder-storm Or Blare Of Trumpets To Announce The Beginning Of A New Month Or Year. Even When A New Century Begins It Is Only We Mortals Who Ring Bells And Fire Off Pistols.

One Has The Idea Of A Stupid Man As Perfectly Healthy And Ordinary, And Of Illness As Making One Refined And Clever And Unusual.

Yes, They Are Carnal, Both Of Them, Love And Death, And Therein Lies Their Terror And Their Great Magic!

There Is Only One Real Misfortune: To Forfeit One's Own Good Opinion Of Oneself. Lose Your Complacency, Once Betray Your Own Self-contempt And The World Will Unhesitatingly Endorse It.

I Don't Think Anyone Is Thinking Long-term Now.