Old Age Makes Caricatures Of Us All.

I Am Fifty Years Old And I Have Never Known What It Is To Love. I Can Write Those Words, Know Them To Be True, But Feel Only The Regret That A Tone-deaf Man Must Feel Because He Can't Appreicate Music, A Regret Less Keen Because It Is For Something Never Known, Not For Something Lost.

Of All The Things That Human Beings Did Together, The Sexual Act Was The One With The Most Various Of Reasons.

Of The Four Billion Life Forms Which Have Existed On This Planet, Three Billion, Nine Hundred And Sixty Million Are Now Extinct. We Don't Know Why. Some By Wanton Extinction, Some Through Natural Catastrophe, Some Destroyed By Meteorites And Asteroids. In The Light Of These Mass Extinctions It Really Does Seem Unreasonable To Suppose That Homo Sapiens Should Be Exempt. Our Species Will Have Been One Of The Shortest-lived Of All, A Mere Blink, You May Say, In The Eye Of Time.

First-class Travel, Provided One Hasn't To Pay For It Oneself, Is The Most Insidiously Addictive Of Life's Luxuries.

The Secret Of Contentment Is Never To Allow Yourself To Want Anything Which Reason Tells You You Haven't A Chance Of Getting.