Posterity--the forlorn child of nineteenth century optimism--grows ever harder to conceive.

The pointless ferocities of intellectual life shock businessmen, who kill only to eat.

In youth, love and art. In age, investments and antiques.

We understand through resemblance.

Women encourage men to be childish, then scold them.

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen: even less, the trouble I've successfully avoided.

Many pains are imaginary, but all joys are real.