The harp is an insipid instrument--no good for dancing, feasting, or marching, only for sitting primly in a parlor or on a cloud.

I pursue pleasure, but stingily, suspiciously.

When I prayed for success, I forgot to ask for sound sleep and good digestion.

When understanding would be too difficult, I become trusting.

Few friendships could survive the moodiness of love affairs.

Strict rules of evidence would destroy psychoanalysis and literary criticism.

If you are going to break a Law of Art, make the crime interesting.