It is horrible to see everything that one detested in the past coming back wearing the colors of the future.
God, that checkroom of our dreams.
I prefer the honest jargon of reality to the outright lies of books.
The biologist passes. The frog stays the same.
In our ideals we unwittingly reveal our vices.
I should have no use for a paradise in which I should be deprived of the right to prefer hell.