I Notice That Autumn Is More The

All Words Are Prejudices.

Truths Are Illusions Of Which One Has Forgotten That They Are Illusions, Metaphors That Have Become Worn-out And Deprived Of Their Sensuous Force, Coins That Have Lost Their Imprint And Are Now No Longer Seen As Coins But As Metal.

The Greatest Events-they Are Not Our Loudest But Our Stillest Hours.

No Man Ever Wrote More Eloquently And Luminously [than Heraclitus].

I Love Him Who Desireth Not Too Many Virtues. One Virtue Is More Of A Virtue Than Two, Because It Is More Of A Knot For One's Destiny To Cling To.