You Men Do Not Understand The Delights

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.

In The First Place, [his Eyes] Never Laughed When He Laughed. Have You Ever Noticed This Peculiarity Some People Have? It Is Either The Sign Of An Evil Nature Or Of A Profound And Lasting Sorrow.

Of Two Friends, One Is Always The Slave Of The Other, Although Frequently Neither Acknowledges The Fact To Himself.

I Was Modest--they Accused Me Of Being Crafty: I Became Secretive. I Felt Deeply Good And Evil--nobody Caressed Me, Everybody Offended Me: I Became Rancorous. I Was Gloomy--other Children Were Merry And Talkative. I Felt Myself Superior To Them--but Was Considered Inferior: I Became Envious. I Was Ready To Love The Whole World--none Understood Me: And I Learned To Hate.

There Are Two Men In Me--one Lives In The Full Sense Of The Word, The Other Reasons And Passes Judgment On The First. The First Will Perhaps Take Leave Of You And The World Forever In An Hour Now; And The Second . . . The Second?