We Must Select The Illusion Which Appeals

The Greatest Problem With Women Is How To Contrive That They Should Seem Our Equals

Approaching Forty, I Had A Singular Dream In Which I Almost Grasped The Meaning And Understood The Nature Of What It Is That Wastes In Wasted Time.

There Is No Pain Equal To That Which Two Lovers Can Inflict On One Another... It Is When We Begin To Hurt Those Whom We Love That The Guilt With Which We Are Born Becomes Intolerable, And Since All Those Whom We Love Intensely And Continuously Grow Part Of Us, And Since We Hate Ourselves In Them, So We Torture Ourselves And Them Together.

Green Leaves On A Dead Tree Is Our Epitaph-green Leaves, Dear Reader, On A Dead Tree.

Dining Out Is A Vice, A Dissipation Of Spirit Punished By Remorse. We Eat, Drink, And Talk A Little Too Much, Abuse All Our Friends, Belch Out Our Literary Preferences And Are Egged On By Accomplices In The Audience To Acts Of Mental Exhibitionism. Such Evenings Cannot Fail To Diminish Those Who Take Part In Them. They End On Monkey Hill.