Make sense who may. I switch off.

I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.

As it is with the love of the body, so with the friendship of the mind, the full is only reached by admittance to the most retired places.

Life is habit. Or rather life is a succession of habits.

Over, over, there is a soft place in my heart for all that is over, no, for the being over, words have been my only loves, not many.

Words are all we have.

Our vulgar perception is not concerned with other than vulgar phenomena.