Do it for yourself. The universe will be around to collect its cut later.

Bleeding ulcers run in my family, we give them to each other.

I know girls who pine for it. They like to play dress-up and pretend being Vor ladies of old, rescued from menace by romantic Vor youths. For some reason they never play 'dying in childbirth', or 'vomiting your guts out from the red dysentery', or 'weaving till you go blind and crippled from arthritis and dye poisoning', or 'infanticide'. Well, they do die romantically of disease sometimes, but somehow it's always an illness that makes you interestingly pale and everyone sorry and doesn't involve losing bowel control.

Do it for yourself. The universe will be around to collect its cut later.

People give themselves to you, in their talking, and in other ways, if you are quiet and patient and let them, and not in such a damned rush to give yourself to them you go bat-blind and deaf.

There was no limit to what one man might do, if he gave all, and held back nothing.

I don't confuse greatness with perfection. To be great anyhow is the higher achievement.