Greed, Like The Love Of Comfort, Is

Civilization Is Maintained By A Very Few People In A Small Number Of Places And We Need Only Some Bombs And A Few Prisons To Blot It Out Altogether.

Dining Out Is A Vice, A Dissipation Of Spirit Punished By Remorse. We Eat, Drink, And Talk A Little Too Much, Abuse All Our Friends, Belch Out Our Literary Preferences And Are Egged On By Accomplices In The Audience To Acts Of Mental Exhibitionism. Such Evenings Cannot Fail To Diminish Those Who Take Part In Them. They End On Monkey Hill.

A Life Based On Reason Will Always Require To Be Balanced By An Occasional Bout Of Violent And Irrational Emotion, For Instinctual Drives Must Be Satisfied

Fallen Leaves Lying On The Grass In The November Sun Bring More Happiness Than The Daffodils.

The Secret Of Success Is To Be In Harmony With Existence, To Be Always Calm To Let Each Wave Of Life Wash Us A Little Farther Up The Shore.