Philosophers Are People Who Do

Every Day There Comes A Moment When A Person Lays His Hands In His Lap And All His Busyness Collapses Like Ashes. The Work Accomplished Is, From The Soul's Point Of View, Entirely Imaginary.

Progress Would Be Wonderful - If Only It Would Stop.

Each Person Is A Graveyard Of His Thoughts. They Are Most Beautiful For Us In The Moment Of Their Birth; Later We Can Often Sense A Deep Pain That They Leave Us Indifferent Where Earlier They Enchanted Us.

There Is Nothing In This World As Invisible As A Monument

You See How Wrong I Go, How Ridiculous I'm Making Myself In Your Eyes By Keeping On Guessing Wrong Like This! Doesn't That Help You To Come Out With It? Come On Now!