Imprudence relies on luck, prudence on method. That gives prudence less edge than it expects.

After ages of bombast, the rhetoric of virtue has become ironic and shy.

Beauty is lyrical. Ugliness is elegiac.

History goes out of control almost as often as nature does.

I alternate between reading cook books and reading diet books.

The cues that arouse desire are changed by Fashion, but feel like the proddings of Nature.

The lyric deals with love and sorrow, the aphorism with contradiction and deceit.