Why I so much prefer autumn to spring is that in the autumn one looks at heaven--in the spring at the earth.

Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the world? How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted? And If I am compelled to take part in it, where is the director? I want to see him.

Irony limits, finitizes, and circumscribes and thereby yields truth, actuality, content; it disciplines and punishes and thereby yields balance and consistency.

...why bother remembering a past that cannot be made into a present?

But doubt is wily and cunning and never, as it is sometimes said to be, loud or defiant. It is unassuming and sly, not bold or assertive - and the more unassuming, the more dangerous.

I begin with the principle that all men are bores. Surely no one will prove himself so great a bore as to contradict me in this.

People understand me so poorly that they don't even understand my complaint about them not understanding me.