No Truth Is Strong Enough

Sorrow And Frustration Have Their Power. The World Is Moved By People With Great Discontents. Happiness Is A Drug. It Can Make Men Blind And Deaf And Insensible To Reality. There Are Times When Only Sorrow Can Give To Sorrow.

This Alone Is To Be Feared - The Closed Mind, The Sleeping Imagination, The Death Of The Spirit. The Death Of The Body Is To That, I Think, A Little Thing.

Why Haven't We Seventy Lives? One Is No Use.

I Can't Think Why I Was Cursed With This Inordinate Desire To Write, If The High Gods Weren't Going To Give Me Some More Adquate Means Of Expressing Myself Than That Which My Present Pedestrian Prose Affords.

Oh, Time Betrays Us. Time Is The Great Enemy.