The More I See Of Life The

The Friendships Which Last Are Those Wherein Each Friend Respects The Other's Dignity To The Point Of Not Really Wanting Anything From Him.

No Taste Is So Acquired As That For Someone Else's Quality Of Mind.

Poets Arguing About Modern Poetry: Jackals Snarling Over A Dried-up Well.

There Is No Pain Equal To That Which Two Lovers Can Inflict On One Another.

Beneath A Mask Of Selfish Tranquility Nothing Exists Except Bitterness And Boredom. I Am One Of Those Whom Suffering Has Made Empty And Frivolous: Each Night In My Dreams I Pull The Scab Off A Wound; Each Day, Vacuous And Habit-ridden, I Help It Re-form.