The Return To A Favorite Novel Is

Laughter Is The Great Antidote For Self-pity, Maybe A Specific For The Malady, Yet Probably It Does Tend To Dry One's Feelings Out A Little, As If By Exposing Them To A Vigorous Wind.

Yet Friendship, I Believe, Is Essential To Intellectuals. It Is Probably The Growth Hormone The Mind Requires As It Begins Its Activity Of Producing And Exchanging Ideas. You Can Date The Evolving Life Of A Mind, Like The Age Of A Tree, By The Rings Of Friendship Formed By The Expanding Central Trunk. In The Course Of My History, Not Love Or Marriage So Much As Friendship Has Promoted Growth.

I Suppose Everyone Continues To Be Interested In The Quest For The Self, But What You Feel When You're Older, I Think, Is That ... You Really Must Make The Self. It Is Absolutely Useless To Look For It, You Won't Find It, But It's Possible In Some Sense To Make It. I Don't Mean In The Sense Of Making A Mask, A Yeatsian Mask. But You Finally Begin In Some Sense To Make And Choose The Self You Want.

If You Talked Or Laughed In Church, Told Lies, Had Impure Thoughts Or Conversations, You Were Bad; If You Obeyed Your Parents Or Guardians, Went To Confession And Communion Regularly, Said Prayers For The Dead, You Were Good.

There Are No New Truths, But Only Truths That Have Not Been Recognized By Those Who Have Perceived Them Without Noticing.