Music Is The Melody Whose Text Is

Journalists Are Like Dogs, When Ever Anything Moves They Begin To Bark.

Music Is The Melody Whose Text Is The World.

Life Swings Like A Pendulum Backward And Forward Between Pain And Boredom.

Genuine Contempt, On The Other Hand, Is The Unsullied Conviction Of The Worthlessness Of Another.

A Man's Delight In Looking Forward To And Hoping For Some Particular Satisfaction Is A Part Of The Pleasure Flowing Out Of It, Enjoyed In Advance. But This Is Afterward Deducted, For The More We Look Forward To Anything The Less We Enjoy It When It Comes.