The Sky Is One Whole,

Life Deserves Laughter, Hence People Laugh At It.

A Man Who Leaves Memoirs, Whether Well Or Badly Written, Provided They Be Sincere, Renders A Service To Future Psychologists And Writers, Giving Them Not Only A Faithful Picture, But Likewise Human Documents That May Be Relied Upon.

Amid The Stillness Of The Night, In The Depths Of The Ravine, From The Direction In Which The Corpses Lay Suddenly Resounded A Kind Of Inhuman, Frightful Laughter In Which Quivered Despair, And Joy, And Cruelty, And Suffering, And Pain, And Sobbing, And Derision; The Heart-rending And Spasmodic Laughter Of The Insane Or Condemned.

Anxiety Prepares The Organism Badly For An Ordeal Which Even Under More Favorable Circumstances Would Not Be An Easy Thing To Bear.

It Is An Altogether Wrong Idea That The Modern Product Of Civilization Is Less Susceptible To Love. I Sometimes Think It Is The Other Way.