The Insignificance of Man is a congenial theme; my own insignificance is a sore point.
Sulking is silent because speaking would reveal its folly.
Compassion brings us to a stop, and for a moment we rise above ourselves.
The perfect aphorism would achieve classical balance and then immediately upset it.
Thoughts can be revised. Deeds cannot.
Aphorisms know the angles, but not the structure.