If we could wake each morning with no memory of living before we went to sleep, we might arrive at a faultless day.

Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, As a moth brushes a window with its wing

The dark is light enough.

I travel light; as light, that is, as a man can travel who will still carry his body around because of its sentimental value.

The lines marking a penalty area are a disgrace to the playing fields of a public school.

Who apart from ourselves, can see any difference between our victories and our defeats?

Indulgences, not fulfillment, is what the world Permits us.