Poor but happy is not a phrase invented by a poor person.
I read less and less. I have not forgiven books for their failure to tell me the truth and make me happy.
My self-absorption warms me; yours boils me.
Our punning minds rejoin what logic has separated.
The ravaged face in the mirror hides the enchanting youth that is the real me.
With age, I have become both more pious and more shameless.