Why Is It That Whenever

To Love Without Criticism Is To Be Betrayed.

Love Is The First Lie; Wisdom The Last.

One's Life Is Peculiar To One's Own When One Has Invented It.

We Are But Skin About A Wind, With Muscles Clenched Against Mortality.

No One Will Be Much Or Little Except In Someone Else's Mind, So Be Careful Of The Minds You Get Into.