Dreams are distorted representations of desire. So are dream- analyses.

When my beloved arrives, I yawn. When my beloved departs, I weep.

The aphorist is a hit and run artist.

The ironies in the commonplace are my inspiration and delight.

One eventually has enough even of oneself.

Let's have some good, old-fashioned literature, with a virgin and a moral.

Intuition is often mistaken, but not altogether.