If art reflects life, it does so with special mirrors.
Great sport begins at a point where it has ceased to be healthy.
Even hatred of vileness Distorts a mans features.
A man who strains himself on the stage is bound, if he is any good, to strain all the people sitting in the stalls.
One must live well to know what living is.
For the villainy of the world is great, and a man has to run his legs off to keep them from being stolen out fom underneath him.