Each Man Has His Own Batch Of

My Face Too Blind, My Mind Too Limited, My Instincts Too Narrow. But This Intensity, Doesn't It Mean Anything?

...is The Carbon Molecule Lined With Thought?

One Thought-murder A Day Keeps The Psychiatrist Away.

Associate With The Noblest People You Can Find; Read The Best Books; Live With The Mighty; But Learn To Be Happy Alone.

And I'm Convinced That Knowing The Names Of Things Braces People Up.