Oblivion Is The Flower That Grows Best

I Know That I Have Found Fulfillment. I Have An Object In Life, A Task ... A Passion.

The Brain Is A Tool That Gets Rusty Without Constant, Albeit Moderate, Exercise.

One Wastes So Much Time, One Is So Prodigal Of Life, At Twenty! Our Days Of Winter Count For Double. That Is The Compensation Of The Old.

There Is But On Virtue--the Eternal Sacrifice Of Self.

As Far As I Am Concerned I Would Rather Spend The Rest Of My Life In Prison Than Marry Again.