Write Your Sad Times In

Nothing Is Worth Doing Unless The Consequences May Be Serious.

Who Are Those We Love? Only Those We Do Not Hate.

My Heart, My Heart, Be Whole And Free: Love Is Thine Only Enemy.

An Irishman's Imagination Never Lets Him Alone, Never Convinces Him, Never Satisfies Him; But It Makes Him That He Can't Face Reality Nor Deal With It Nor Handle It Nor Conquer It: He Can Only Sneer At Them That Do, And Be 'agreeable To Strangers', Like A Good-for-nothing Woman On The Streets.

When The Master Has Come To Do Everything Through The Slave, The Slave Becomes His Master, Since He Cannot Live Without Him.