One Must Not Look Inward

To Love Without Criticism Is To Be Betrayed.

One's Life Is Peculiar To One's Own When One Has Invented It.

Life, The Permission To Know Death.

This Head Has Risen Above Its Hair In A Moment Of Abandon Known Only To Men Who Have Drawn Their Feet Out Of Their Boots To Walk Awhile In The Corridors Of The Mind.

After All, It Is Not Where One Washes One's Neck That Counts But Where One Moistens One's Throat.