Something is sticking out its tongue at me from the corner of my mirror.
The noisy vacancy of youth, the quiet vacancy of age.
Affection reproaches, but does not denounce.
Finding a thought for an aphorism is not hard. Putting a kink in its tail is the hard part.
The meaning of today will not be clear until tomorrow.
Scepticism is always a back road leading to some credo or other.