I've lived to bury my desires and see my dreams corrode with rust now all that's left are fruitless fires that burn my empty heart to dust. Struck by the clouds of cruel fate My crown of Summer bloom is sere Alone and sad, I watch and wait And wonder if the end is near. As conquered by the last cold air When Winter whistles in the wind Alone upon a branch that's bare A trembling leaf is left behind.

Inspiration is needed in geometry, just as much as in poetry.

Write for pleasure and publish for money.

Moral maxims are surprisingly useful on occasions when we can invent little else to justify our actions.

A deception that elevates us is dearer than a host of low truths.

Cabbage soup and barley. They're Russia's national food. Both excellent in their way, but a shade monotonous.

Thus people--so it seems to me-- Become good friends from sheer ennui.