There Is No Plan. All Is Hazard.

You're Not Me. You Can't Feel Like I Feel." "i Can Feel." "no You Can't. You Just Choose Not To Feel Or Something And Everything's Fine." "it's Not Fine. It's Just Not So Bad.

We All Want Things We Can't Have. Being A Decent Human Being Is Accepting That.

Hazard Has Conditioned Us To Live In Hazard. All Our Pleasures Are Dependent On It. Even Though I Arrange For A Pleasure, And Look Forward To It, My Eventual Enjoyment Of It Is Still A Matter Of Hazard. Wherever Time Passes, There Is Hazard.

Most Marriages Recognize This Paradox: Passion Destroys Passion; We Want What Puts An End To Wanting What We Want.

An Easterly Is The Most Disagreeable Wind In Lyme Bay — Lyme Bay Being That Largest Bite From The Underside Of England's Outstretched Southwestern Leg — And A Person Of Curiosity Could At Once Have Deduced Several Strong Probabilities About The Pair Who Began To Walk Down The Quay At Lyme Regis, The Small But Ancient Eponym Of The Inbite, One Incisively Sharp And Blustery Morning In The Late March Of 1867.