If beggars do not hate the rest of us, they are even more abject than I had imagined.
All anger feels like righteous anger; sorrow does not care whether it is righteous or not.
The young break rules for fun. The old for profit.
My neglected duties crowd around me in my dreams, murmuring.
I tried self-sacrifice a couple of times in my youth.
Against classical philosophy: thinking about eternity or the immensity of the universe does not lessen my unhappiness.