Falling Out Of Love Is Chiefly A

Trains Induce Such Terrible Anxiety. They Image The Possibility Of Total And Irrevocable Failure. They Are Also Dirty, Rackety, Packed With Strangers, An Object Lesson In The Foul Contingency Of Life: The Talkative Fellow-traveller, The Possibility Of Children.

Possibly, More People Kill Themselves And Others Out Of Hurt Vanity Than Out Of Envy, Jealousy, Malice Or Desire For Revenge.

Then I Felt Too That I Might Take This Opportunity To Tie Up A Few Loose Ends, Only Of Course Loose Ends Can Never Be Properly Tied, One Is Always Producing New Ones. Time, Like The Sea, Unties All Knots. Judgements On People Are Never Final, They Emerge From Summings Up Which At Once Suggest The Need Of A Reconsideration. Human Arrangements Are Nothing But Loose Ends And Hazy Reckoning, Whatever Art May Otherwise Pretend In Order To Console Us.

The Bicycle Is The Most Civilized Conveyance Known To Man. Other Forms Of Transport Grow Daily More Nightmarish. Only The Bicycle Remains Pure In Heart.

A Death Is The Most Terrible Of Facts.