The Reward Of Art Is

We Must Select The Illusion Which Appeals To Our Temperament, And Embrace It With Passion, If We Want To Be Happy.

Like The Bee Its Sting, The Promiscuous Leave Behind Them In Each Encounter Something Of Themselves By Which They Are Made To Suffer.

Greed, Like The Love Of Comfort, Is A Kind Of Fear.

Only By Avoiding The Beginning Of Things Can We Escape Their End.

No City Should Be Too Large For A Man To Walk Out Of In A Morning.