One Arrives At Style Only With Atrocious

I Go Dreaming Into The Future, Where I See Nothing, Nothing. I Have No Plans, No Idea, No Project, And, What Is Worse, No Ambition. Something – The Eternal ‘what’s The Use?’ – Sets Its Bronze Barrier Across Every Avenue That I Open Up In The Realm Of Hypothesis.

The Principal Thing In This World Is To Keep One's Soul Aloft.

Je Suis Autant Chinois Que Fran C° Ais. I Am As Much Chinese As French.

What Is Glory? It Is To Have A Lot Of Nonsense Talked About You.

One Mustn't Ask Apple Trees For Oranges, France For Sun, Women For Love, Life For Happiness.