The swifter hand doth the swift words outrun: Before the tongue hath spoke the hand hath done.

Life is not merely to be alive, but to be well.

It is not, believe me, the act of a wise man to say, "I will live." To-morrow's life is too late; live to-day.

While you remain at home your hair is at the hairdresser's; you take out your teeth at night and sleep tucked away in a hundred cosmetics boxes - even your face does not sleep with you.

Your page stands against you and says to you that you are a thief.

You complain, friend Swift, of the length of my epigrams, but you yourself write nothing. Yours are shorter.

He writes nothing whose writings are not read.