It Is Of Men, And Of Them

My Trouble Is Insomnia. If I Had Always Slept Properly, I'd Never Have Written A Line.

In The Whole Of Your Absurd Past You Discover So Much That's Absurd, So Much Deceit And Credulity, That It Might Be A Good Idea To Stop Being Young This Minute, To Wait For Youth To Break Away From You And Pass You By, To Watch It Going Away, Receding In The Distance, To See All Its Vanity, Run Your Hand Through The Empty Space It Has Left Behind, Take A Last Look At It, And Then Start Moving, Make Sure Your Youth Has Really Gone, And Then Calmly, All By Yourself, Cross To The Other Side Of Time To See What People And Things Really Look Like.

That Is Perhaps What We Seek Throughout Life, That And Nothing More, The Greatest Possible Sorrow So As To Become Fully Ourselves Before Dying.

An Unfamiliar City Is A Fine Thing. That's The Time And Place When You Can Suppose That All The People You Meet Are Nice. It's Dream Time.

There's No Such Thing As Intelligent Vanity. It's An Instinct. And You'll Never Find A Man Who Is Not First And Foremost Vain.