Socrates Wrote Nothing. Christ Wrote Nothing.

Real Misery Cuts Off All Paths To Itself.

A Letter Is A Barrier, A Reprieve, A Charm Against The World, An Almost Infallible Method Of Acting At A Distance.

Falling Out Of Love Is Chiefly A Matter Of Forgetting How Charming Someone Is.

Every Human Soul Has Seen, Perhaps Before Their Birth, Pure Forms Such As Justice, Temperance, Beauty And All The Great Moral Qualities Which We Hold In Honour. We Are Moved Towards What Is Good By The Faint Memory Of These Forms, Simple And Calm And Blessed, Which We Saw Once In A Pure, Clear Light, Being Pure Ourselves.

How Rarely Can Happiness Be Really Innocent And Not Triumphant, Not An Insult To The Deprived.