Every Reasonable Human Being Should

The Observations And Encounters Of A Devotee Of Solitude And Silence Are At Once Less Distinct And More Penetrating Than Those Of The Sociable Man; His Thoughts Are Weightier, Stranger, And Never Without A Tinge Of Sadness. Images And Perceptions Which Might Otherwise Be Easily Dispelled By A Glance, A Laugh, An Exchange Of Comments, Concern Him Unduly, They Sink Into Mute Depths, Take On Significance, Become Experiences, Adventures, Emotions.

I Never Can Understand How Anyone Can Not Smoke It Deprives A Man Of The Best Part Of Life. With A Good Cigar In His Mouth A Man Is Perfectly Safe, Nothing Can Touch Him, Literally.

Often I Have Thought Of The Day When I Gazed For The First Time At The Sea. The Sea Is Vast, The Sea Is Wide, My Eyes Roved Far And Wide And Longed To Be Free. But There Was The Horizon. Why A Horizon, When I Wanted The Infinite From Life?

No Man Remains Quite What He Was When He Recognizes Himself.

There Were Profound Reasons For His Attachment To The Sea: He Loved It Because As A Hardworking Artist He Needed Rest, Needed To Escape From The Demanding Complexity Of Phenomena And Lie Hidden On The Bosom Of The Simple And Tremendous; Because Of A Forbidden Longing Deep Within Him That Ran Quite Contrary To His Life's Task And Was For That Very Reason Seductive, A Longing For The Unarticulated And Immeasurable, For Eternity, For Nothingness. To Rest In The Arms Of Perfection Is The Desire Of Any Man Intent Upon Creating Excellence; And Is Not Nothingness A Form Of Perfection?