Nothing Is So Fragile As Thought In

Life Is Indeed Either A Rich Possession Or A Poor, According As It Is Made Subservient To Noble Aims Or Ignoble Pleasures.

The Great Artist Is A Slave To His Ideals.

Too Much Society Makes A Man Frivolous; Too Little, A Savage.

God, We Are Told, Looked Upon The World After He Had Created It And Pronounced It Good; But Ascetic Pietists, In Their Wisdom, Cast Their Eyes Over It, And Substantially Pronounce It A Dead Failure, A Miserable Production, A Poor Concern.

The Body Of A Sensualist Is The Coffin Of A Dead Soul.