A Great Reader Seldom Recognizes His Solitude.

I Cling To Depression, Thinking It A Form Of Truth.

Idleness Makes People Feeble And Peevish. Work Makes Them Stalwart And Prone To Anger.

Like Love, Destruction Can Be Ecstatic.

Comedy Is Hostile To Profundity, And Brings Everything To The Surface.

One Eventually Has Enough Even Of Oneself.