Reason May Cure Illusions, But

It Is Easy To Promise, And Alas! How Easy To Forget!

I Could Not Clearly Distinguish What Was Passing In My Head; It Seemed To Me That I Was Under The Influence Of A Horrible Dream And That I Had But To Awake To Find Myself Cured; At Times It Seemed That My Entire Life Had Been A Dream, Ridiculous And Childish, The Falseness Of Which Had Just Been Disclosed.

You’re Like A Lighthouse Shining Beside The Sea Of Humanity, Motionless: All You Can See Is Your Own Reflection In The Water. You’re Alone, So You Think It’s A Vast, Magnificent Panorama. You Haven’t Sounded The Depths. You Simply Believe In The Beauty Of God’s Creation. But I Have Spent All This Time In The Water, Diving Deep Into The Howling Ocean Of Life, Deeper Than Anyone. While You Were Admiring The Surface, I Saw The Shipwrecks, The Drowned Bodies, The Monsters Of The Deep

Vanity And Dignity Are Incompatible With Each Other; Vain Women Are Almost Sure To Be Vulnerable.

If Love Is A Play, This Play, As Old As The World, Fiasco Or Not, It Is, All In All, The Least Bad Thing That Has So Far Been Found. The Roles Are Trite, I Admit, But If The Play Had No Value The Whole Universe Wouldn’t Know It By Heart