I wish you joy of your unhappiness, since you cling to it so.
In the city, nudity means something; in the wild, it just exists.
When Medusa looks in the mirror, she sees the Lady of Sorrows.
Work saves us from melancholy. Pleasure exposes us to it.
The irrational may be attractive in the abstract, but not in cab drives, dinner guests, or elderly relatives.
Like a frog, the aphorist waits for something to fly by that he can catch with his tongue.