Jealousy - that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.
We dread the future only when we are not sure we can kill ourselves when we want to.
Glory - once achieved, what is it worth?
What do you do from morning to night?" "I endure myself.
Melancholy: an appetite no misery satisfies.
I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws.