The Thought That Really Crushes Us Is

A Dictionary Can Embrace Only A Small Part Of The Vast Tapestry Of A Language.

Death Is Not An Evil, Because It Frees Us From All Evils, And While It Takes Away Good Things, It Takes Away Also The Desire For Them. Old Age Is The Supreme Evil, Because It Deprives Us Of All Pleasures, Leaving Us Only The Appetite For Them, And It Brings With It All Sufferings. Nevertheless, We Fear Death, And We Desire Old Age.

The Old Man, Especially If He Is In Society In The Privacy Of His Thoughts, Though He May Protest The Opposite, Never Stops Believing That, Through Some Singular Exception Of The Universal Rule, He Can In Some Unknown And Inexplicable Way Still Make An Impression On Women.

I Find It Awfully Difficult To Determine If The Habit Of Talking About Oneself At Length Runs Contrary To The Basic Rules Of Propriety, Or If Instead The Man Exempt From This Vice Is Rare.

Everything Since Homer Has Improved, Except Poetry.