When One Is Traveling, One Must Expect

He Types His Labored Column - Weary Drudge! Senile Fudge And Solemn: Spare, Editor, To Condemn These Dry Leaves Of His Autumn.

This Is The Great Theatre Of Life. Admission Is Free, But The Taxation Is Mortal. You Come When You Can, And Leave When You Must. The Show Is Continuous. Goodnight.

Although I Am Almost Illiterate Mathematically, I Grasped Very Early In Life That Any One Who Can Count To Ten Can Count Upward Indefinitely If He Is Fool Enough To Do So.

There Is Absolutely No Point In Sitting Down To Write A Book Unless You Feel That You Must Write That Book, Or Else Go Mad, Or Die.

I Am Quite A Wise Old Bird, But I Am No Desert Hermit Who Can Only Prophesy When His Guts Are Knotted With Hunger. I Am Deep In The Old Man’s Puzzle, Trying To Link The Wisdom Of The Body With The Wisdom Of The Spirit Until The Two Are One.