Life Just Keeps Unfolding, Ignoring Our Praise

I Criticize Myself Ruthlessly, But Never Mention The Faults Of Which I Am Truly Ashamed.

My Mother Wanted To Shrink From My Clinging, But Did Not.

Strict Rules Of Evidence Would Destroy Psychoanalysis And Literary Criticism.

I Tried Good Taste, But The Strain Was Too Much For Me.

In The Museums, Everything Is In Quotation Marks.