Boredom Makes Me Sleepy Or Restless.

Unhappiness Is Too Common To Call For Special Measures.

Nobody Likes To Offer Stupidity As An Excuse.

Loving, Not The Beloved, Is The Joy Of Love. The Beloved, Knowing This, Most Resolutely Declines To Be Grateful.

Many Pains Are Imaginary, But All Joys Are Real.

No One Can Remember Himself As An Unpleasant Child.