It's all too much and not enough at the same time.
Books, shmooks, this sickness has got me wishing if I can ever get out of this I'll gladly become a millworker and shut my big mouth.
I feel guilty for being a member of the human race.
Better to sleep in an uncomfortable bed free, than sleep in a comfortable bed unfree.
It ain't whatcha write, it's the way atcha write it.
Return those shoes to the shoemaker Return this hand to my father This pillow to the pillowmaker Those slippers to the shop. That wainscot to the carpenter, But my mind my tranquil and eternal Mind Return it to whom?