Young Men Know The Rules,

Our Morality Seems To Be Only A Check On The Ultimate Domination Of Force, Just As Our Politeness Is A Check On The Impulse Of Every Pig To Put His Feet In The Trough.

Through Our Great Good Fortune, In Our Youth Our Hearts Were Touched With Fire. It Was Given To Us To Learn At The Outset That Life Is A Profound And Passionate Thing.

Poverty Comes Pleading Not For Charity, For The Most Part, But Imploring Us To Find A Purchaser For Its Unmarketable Wares.

Three Generations Of Imbeciles Are Enough.

Life Is A Fatal Complaint, And An Eminently Contagious One.