A Great Truth Is A Truth Whose

Often I Have Thought Of The Day When I Gazed For The First Time At The Sea. The Sea Is Vast, The Sea Is Wide, My Eyes Roved Far And Wide And Longed To Be Free. But There Was The Horizon. Why A Horizon, When I Wanted The Infinite From Life?

One Has The Idea Of A Stupid Man As Perfectly Healthy And Ordinary, And Of Illness As Making One Refined And Clever And Unusual.

I Don't Think Anyone Is Thinking Long-term Now.

The Observations And Encounters Of A Devotee Of Solitude And Silence Are At Once Less Distinct And More Penetrating Than Those Of The Sociable Man; His Thoughts Are Weightier, Stranger, And Never Without A Tinge Of Sadness. Images And Perceptions Which Might Otherwise Be Easily Dispelled By A Glance, A Laugh, An Exchange Of Comments, Concern Him Unduly, They Sink Into Mute Depths, Take On Significance, Become Experiences, Adventures, Emotions.

There Is Only One Real Misfortune: To Forfeit One's Own Good Opinion Of Oneself. Lose Your Complacency, Once Betray Your Own Self-contempt And The World Will Unhesitatingly Endorse It.