The Most Essential And Fundamental Aspect Of

I Live, I Live, With An Absolutely Continuous Sense Of Failure. I Am Always Defeated, Always. Every Book Is The Wreck Of A Perfect Idea. The Years Pass And One Has Only One Life. If One Has A Thing At All One Must Do It And Keep On And On And On Trying To Do It Better.

Bereavement Is A Darkness Impenetrable To The Imagination Of The Unbereaved

Happiness Is A Matter Of One's Most Ordinary Everyday Mode Of Consciousness Being Busy And Lively And Unconcerned With Self.

Language Is A Machine For Making Falsehoods.

Confession Ran In The Family.