Because, To Despise Money, One Must Have

When A Man Mourns For Someone Who Has Played Him False, It Is Not For Love Of Her, But For His Own Humiliation At Not Having Deserved Her Trust.

But All Years Are Stupid. It's Only When They're Over That They Become Interesting.

One Does Not Kill Oneself For Love Of A Woman, But Because Love - Any Love - Reveals Us In Our Nakedness, Our Misery, Our Vulnerability, Our Nothingness.

Suffering Is By No Means A Privilege, A Sign Of Nobility, A Reminder Of God. Suffering Is A Fierce, Bestial Thing, Commonplace, Uncalled For, Natural As Air. It Is Intangible; No One Can Grasp It Or Fight Against It; It Dwells In Time - Is The Same Thing As Time; If It Comes In Fits And Starts, That Is Only So As To Leave The Sufferer More Defenseless During The Moments That Follow, Those Long Moments When One Relives The Last Bout Of Torture And Waits For The Next.

Anchorites Used To Ill-treat Themselves In The Way They Did, So That The Common People Would Not Begrudge Them The Beatitude They Would Enjoy In Heaven.