There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.
Tragedy is restful: and the reason is that hope, that foul, deceitful thing, has no part in it.
Some men like to make a little garden out of life and walk down a path
Tragedy is clean, it is restful, it is flawless.
The true masters of the art of living are already happy.
Each of us has a day .. when he has to accept, finally, the fact that he is a man.