Fate Succumbs Many A Species:

There Is A Certain Kind Of Person Who Is So Dominated By The Desire To Be Loved For Himself Alone That He Has Constantly To Test Those Around Him By Tiresome Behavior; What He Says And Does Must Be Admired, Not Because It Is Intrinsically Admirable, But Because It Is His Remark, His Act. Does Not This Explain A Good Deal Of Avant-garde Art?

The Friends Who Met Here And Embraced Are Gone, Each To His Own Mistake.

If There Are Any Souls In Hell, It Is Because That Is Where They Insist On Being.

There Are Good Books Which Are Only For Adults. There Are No Good Books Which Are Only For Children.

Every Man Carries With Him Through Life A Mirror, As Unique And Impossible To Get Rid Of As His Shadow.