I Get Fed Up With All This

My Fellow Journalists Called Themselves Correspondents; I Preferred The Title Of Reporter. I Wrote What I Saw. I Took No Action -- Even An Opinion Is A Kind Of Action.

It Was Like Having A Box Of Chocolates Shut In The Bedroom Drawer. Until The Box Was Empty It Occupied The Mind Too Much.

Beauty Is Like Success: We Can't Love It For Long.

It Infuriated Him To Think That There Were Still People In The State Who Believed In A Loving And Merciful God. There Are Mystics Who Are Said To Have Experienced God Directly. He Was A Mystic, Too, And What He Had Experienced Was Vacancy--a Complete Certainty In The Existence Of A Dying, Cooling World, Of Human Beings Who Had Evolved From Animals For No Purpose At All.

It's Strange How The Human Mind Swings Back And Forth, From One Extreme To Another. Does Truth Lie At Some Point Of The Pendulum's Swing, At A Point Where It Never Rests, Not In The Dull Perpendicular Mean Where It Dangles In The End Like A Windless Flag, But At An Angle, Nearer One Extreme Than Another? If Only A Miracle Could Stop The Pendulum At An Angle Of Sixty Degrees, One Would Believe The Truth Was There.