Music Is Essentially Useless, As Life Is;

You And I Possess Manifold Ideal Bonds In The Interests We Share; But Each Of Us Has His Poor Body And His Irremediable, Incommunicable Dreams.

Skepticism Is The Chastity Of The Intellect...

There Is No Cure For Birth And Death Save To Enjoy The Interval.

It Is A New Road To Happiness, If You Have Strength Enough To Castigate A Little The Various Impulses That Sway You In Turn.

The Brute Necessity Of Believing Something So Long As Life Lasts Does Not Justify Any Belief In Particular.