The One Thing I Regret Is That

Illness Is The Opposite Of Freedom. It Makes Everything Impossible.

In Love, As In Finance, Only The Rich Can Get Credit.

No One Talks About Money More Than People Who Have Too Much Of It.

I've Often Found Myself Preferring Second-rate People To Supposedly Superior People, Simply And Solely Because Of Their Uncontrollable Tendency To Bang Themselves Against The Sides Of Life's Vast Lampshade Like Fireflies Or Moths.

A Strange Melancholy Pervades Me To Which I Hesitate To Give The Grave And Beautiful Name Of Sorrow. The Idea Of Sorrow Has Always Appealed To Me But Now I Am Almost Ashamed Of It's Complete Egoism. I Have Known Boredom, Regret, And Occasionally Remorse, But Never Sorrow. Today It Envelops Me Like A Silken Web, Enervating And Soft, And Sets Me Apart From Everybody Else.