The more knowledge, the clearer what the doubts are.
I cling to depression, thinking it a form of truth.
My parents wanted me to solace them for sorrows they denied having had.
Loving, not the beloved, is the joy of love. The beloved, knowing this, most resolutely declines to be grateful.
We often disguise our reflexes as deliberate actions.
Three meals plus bedtime make four sure blessings a day.