No-one Was Ever Made Wretched In A

The More I See Of Life The More I Perceive That Only Through Solitary Communion With Nature Can One Gain An Idea Of Its Richness And Meaning.

Melancholy And Remorse Forms The Deep Leaden Keel Which Enables Us To Sail Into The Wind Of Reality.

The American Language Is In A State Of Flux Based Upon Survival Of The Unfittest.

When Even Despair Ceases To Serve Any Creative Purpose, Then Surely We Are Justified In Suicide.

The Worst Vice Of The Solitary Is The Worship Of His Food.