It's Pointless To Cry. One

Death Is Repose, But The Thought Of Death Disturbs All Repose.

It Is Not The Actual Enjoyment Of Pleasure That We Desire. What We Want Is To Test The Futility Of That Pleasure, So As To Be No Longer Obsessed By It.

The Closing Years Of Life Are Like The End Of A Masquerade Party, When The Masks Are Dropped.

In General, The Man Who Is Readily Disposed To Sacrifice Himself Is One Who Does Not Know How Else To Give Meaning To His Life. The Profession Of Enthusiasm Is The Most Sickening Of All Insincerities.

A Corpse Is What's Left After Waking Too Often.