A Doctor Who Doesn't Say Too Many

Our Memory Is Like A Shop In The Window Of Which Is Exposed Now One, Now Another Photograph Of The Same Person. And As A Rule The Most Recent Exhibit Remains For Some Time The Only One To Be Seen.

We Have Such Numerous Interests In Our Lives That It Is Not Uncommon, On A Single Occasion, For The Foundations Of A Happiness That Does Not Yet Exist To Be Laid Down Alongside The Intensification Of A Grief From Which We Are Still Suffering.

L'ide E Qu'on Mourra Est Plus Cruelle Que Mourir, Mais Moins Que L'ide E Qu'un Autre Est Mort. The Idea Of Dying Is Worse Than Dying Itself, But Less Cruel Than The Idea That Another Has Died.

The Artist Who Gives Up An Hour Of Work For An Hour Of Conversation With A Friend Knows That He Is Sacrificing A Reality For Something That Does Not Exist (our Friends Being Friends Only In The Light Of An Agreeable Folly Which Travels With Us Through Life And To Which We Readily Accommodate Ourselves, But Which At The Bottom Of Our Hearts We Know To Be No More Reasonable Than The Delusion Of The Man Who Talks To The Furniture Because He Believes That It Is Alive.).

Desire Makes Everything Blossom; Possession Makes Everything Wither And Fade.