The Gods Are Watching, But Idly, Yawning.

Whether I Give To A Beggar Or Not, His Existence Puts Me In The Wrong.

Alone, I Am Drunk On My Thoughts; In Company, I Am Sober Again.

The Little Suckings And Smackings Of The Perversions Are The Sounds Of Joyous Infancy.

Idleness Makes People Feeble And Peevish. Work Makes Them Stalwart And Prone To Anger.

I Have Learned To Keep To Myself How Exceptional I Am.