Promiscuity turns sex into a sport, like arm-wrestling.

Prudence does not make people happy; it merely deprives them of the excitement of being constantly in trouble.

To avoid tripping on the chain of the past, you have to pick it up and wind it about you.

I reject all evidence that my fabulous beloved is an ordinary person who worries, watches TV, and has bouts of indigestion.

The perfect aphorism would achieve classical balance and then immediately upset it.

At retirement, switching from "I must" to "I want" leaves me puzzled and uneasy.

Think of the many different relations of form and content. E.g., the many pairs of trousers and what's in them.