Man is vile, and man makes nothing worth making, knows nothing worth knowing.
All the great story lines are great practical jokes that people fall for over and over again.
You realize, of course, that everything I say is horseshit.
I don't reveal to her that I love her. I keep poker faced. She might as well be looking at a cantaloupe, there is so little information in my face, but my heart is beating.
The triumph of anything is a matter of organization.
One might be led to suspect that there were all sorts of things going on in the Universe which he or she did not thoroughly understand.