There is an ideal standard somewhere and only that matters and I cannot find it. Hence the aimlessness.

Isn't it true that the fault of birth rests somewhat on the child? I believe it's we who led our parents on to bear us, and it's our unborn children who make our flesh itch.

I had dropped one form and not taken on the other, and was become like Mohammed's coffin in our legend, with a resultant feeling of intense loneliness in life, and a contempt, not for other men, but for all they do.

I could write for hours on the lustfulness of moving Swiftly.

They taught me that no man could be their leader except he ate the ranks' food, wore their clothes, lived level with them, and yet appeared better in himself.

Your success will be proportioned to the amount of mental effort you devote to it.

Half a calamity is better than a whole one.