The Cure For Anything Is Salt Water:

The Divine Art Is The Story.

The Lime Trees Were In Bloom. But In The Early Morning Only A Faint Fragrance Drifted Through The Garden, An Airy Message, An Aromatic Echo Of The Dreams During The Short Summer Night.

One Must In This Lower World Love Many Things To Know Finally What One Loves The Best.

In Those Days I Had Various Strong Inclinations, For Wine, Gambling And Cockfighting, And The Society Of Gypsies, Together With A Passion For Theological Discussion Which I Had Inherited From My Father Himself-all Of Which My Father Thought I Had Better Rid Myself Of Before I Married.

Human Talk Is A Centrifugal Function, Ever In Flight Outwards From What Is On The Talker's Mind.