One Has A Greater Sense

The Success Or Failure Of A Life, As Far As Posterity Goes, Seems To Lie In The More Or Less Luck Of Seizing The Right Moment Of Escape

I Wonder, Whether, If I Had Had Any Education I Should Have Been More, Or Less, Of A Fool Than I Am. It Would Have Deprived Me Surely Of Those Exquisite Moments Of Mental Flatulence Which Every Now And Then Inflate The Cerebral Vacuum With A Delicious Sense Of Latent Possibilities-of Stretching Oneself To Cosmic Limits, And Who Would Ever Give Up The Reality Of Dreams For Relative Knowledge?

How Sick One Gets Of Being "good," How Much I Should Respect Myself If I Could Burst Out And Make Everyone Wretched For Twenty-four Hours; Embody Selfishness.

What Sense Of Superiority It Gives One To Escape Reading Some Book Which Every One Else Is Reading.

The Difficulty About All This Dying, Is That You Can't Tell A Fellow Anything About It, So Where Does The Fun Come In?