The first breathe of adultery is the freest.
irony is a way of having one's cake while appearing to eat it.
The New England spirit does not seek solutions in a crowd; raw light and solitariness are less dreaded than welcomed as enhancers of our essential selves.
Living is a compromise, between doing what you want and doing what other people want.
The essential self is innocent, and when it tastes its own innocence knows that it lives for ever.
There is always a chance of failure, of producing something totally unnecessary. But I guess that chance of failure is what makes tightrope walking, race-car driving.