The soul is no longer honored as it once was, but it still keeps appetite from being the measure of all things.

I am kept in bondage by the moles of my beloved.

The familiar changes as we cling to it.

The Puritan sours his pleasures by disguising them as duties.

Beware of wallflowers. They expect to have everything done for them.

Work saves us from melancholy. Pleasure exposes us to it.

Disillusionment is not truth.