Books Are The Curse Of

That Soul-subduing Sentiment, Harshly Called Flirtation, Which Is The Spell Of A Country House.

It Is The Lot Of Man To Suffer; It Is Also His Fortune To Forget. Oblivion And Sorrow Share Our Being, As Darkness And Light Divide The Course Of Time.

Two Nations Between Whom There Is No Intercourse And No Sympathy; Who Are As Ignorant Of Each Other's Habits, Thoughts, And Feelings, As If They Were Dwellers In Different Zones, Or Inhabitants Of Different Planets. The Rich And The Poor.

Why Should One Say That The Machine Does Not Live? It Breathes, For Its Breath Forms The Atmosphere Of Some Towns.

To Supervise People, You Must Either Surpass Them In Their Accomplishments Or Despise Them.