Oh Hearts! Nobody Gets Through Life Without

Although I Am Almost Illiterate Mathematically, I Grasped Very Early In Life That Any One Who Can Count To Ten Can Count Upward Indefinitely If He Is Fool Enough To Do So.

The Problem For A Paracelsian Physician Like Me Is That I See Diseases As Disguises In Which People Present Me With Their Wretchedness.

I Came At Last To A Recognition Of Myself As, In Part, A Tom Sawyer Who Wanted Everything Done According To The Rules Of Romantic Fiction, And Complicated Simple Solutions With His Absurd Adolescent, Book-born Nonsense.

Our Forebears Are Deserving Of Tribute For One Indisputable Reason, If For No Other: Without Them We Should Not Be Here. Let Us Recognize That We Are Not The Ultimate Triumph But Rather We Are Beads On A String. Let Us Behave With Decency To The Beads That Were Strung Before Us And Hope Modestly That The Beads That Come After Us Will Not Hold Us Of No Account Simply Because We Are Dead.

Book Lovers Are Thought By Unbookish People To Be Gentle And Unworldly, And Perhaps A Few Of Them Are So. But There Are Others Who Will Lie And Scheme And Steal To Get Books As Wildly And Unconscionably As The Dope-taker In Pursuit Of His Drug. They May Not Want The Books To Read Immediately, Or At All; They Want Them To Possess, To Range On Their Shelves, To Have At Command. They Want Books As A Turk Is Thought To Want Concubines - Not To Be Hastily Deflowered, But To Be Kept At Their Master's Call, And Enjoyed More Often In Thought Than In Reality.