Our Image Of Happiness Is Indissolubly Bound

Taking Food Alone Tends To Make One Hard And Coarse. Those Accustomed To It Must Lead A Spartan Life If They Are Not To Go Downhill. Hermits Have Observed, If For Only This Reason, A Frugal Diet. For It Is Only In Company That Eating Is Done Justice; Food Must Be Divided And Distributed If It Is To Be Well Received.

What Has Been Forgotten Is Never Something Purely Individual. Everything Forgotten Mingles With What Has Been Forgotten Of The Prehistoric World, Forms Countless, Uncertain, Changing Compounds, Yielding A Constant Flow Of New, Strange Products.

Work On A Good Piece Of Writing Proceeds On Three Levels: A Musical One, Where It Is Composed, An Architectural One, Where It Is Constructed, And Finally A Textile One, Where It Is Woven.

Bourgeois Existence Is The Regime Of Private Affairs . . . And The Family Is The Rotten, Dismal Edifice In Whose Closets And Crannies The Most Ignominious Instincts Are Deposited. Mundane Life Proclaims The Total Subjugation Of Eroticism To Privacy.

The Nourishing Fruit Of The Historically Understood Contains Time As A Precious But Tasteless Seed.