Trouble Shared Is Trouble Halved.

I Can't Think Why Fancy Religions Should Have Such A Ghastly Effect On One's Grammar. It's A Kind Of Intellectual Rot That Sets In, I'm Afraid.

As I Grow Older And Older, And Totter Toward The Tomb, I Find That I Care Less And Less Who Goes To Bed With Whom.

Books... Are Like Lobster Shells, We Surround Ourselves With 'em, Then We Grow Out Of 'em And Leave 'em Behind, As Evidence Of Our Earlier Stages Of Development.

To Make A Precise Scientific Description Of Reality Out Of Words Is Like Trying To Build A Rigid Structure Out Of Pure Quicksilver.

However Entrancing It Is To Wander Unchecked Through A Garden Of Bright Images, Are We Not Enticing Your Mind From Another Subject Of Almost Equal Importance?