We Practically Always Excuse Things When We

I Love Enemies, Though Not In The Christian Way. They Amuse Me, Excite My Blood. Being Always On One’s Guard, Catching Every Glance, The Significance Of Every Word, Guessing At Intentions, Frustrating Their Plots, Pretending To Be Tricked, And Suddenly, With A Shove, Upturning The Whole Enormous And Arduously Built Edifice Of Their Cunning And Schemes—that’s What I Call Life.

If Only People Thought A Little More About It, They Would See That Life Is Not Worrying About So Much.

It Is Sad To See A Young Man's Fondest Hopes And Dreams Shattered When The Rose-colured Veil Is Plucked Away And He Sees The Actions And Feelings Of Men For What They Are. But He Still Has The Hope Of Replacing His Old Illusions With Others, Just As Fleeting, But Also Just As Sweet.

Many A Calm River Begins As A Turbulent Waterfall, Yet None Hurtles And Foams All The Way To The Sea.

What Of It? If I Die, I Die. It Will Be No Great Loss To The World, And I Am Thoroughly Bored With Life. I Am Like A Man Yawning At A Ball; The Only Reason He Does Not Go Home To Bed Is That His Carriage Has Not Arrived Yet.