Death Destroys A Man, But The Idea

Do We Find Happiness So Often That We Should Turn It Off The Box When It Happens To Sit There?

Happiness In The Ordinary Sense Is Not What One Needs In Life, Though One Is Right To Aim At It. The True Satisfaction Is To Come Through, And See Those Whom One Lives Come Through.

Outside The Arch, Always There Seemed Another Arch. And Beyond The Remotest Echo, A Silence.

It Was Unbearable, And He Thought Again, 'how Unhappy I Am!' And Became Happier.

The Work Of Art Assumes The Existence Of The Perfect Spectator, And Is Indifferent To The Fact That No Such Person Exists.