Man Is A Mind Betrayed, Not Served,

A Painting In A Museum Hears More Ridiculous Opinions Than Anything Else In The World.

Today I Begin To Understand What Love Must Be, If It Exists... When We Are Parted, We Each Feel The Lack Of The Other Half Of Ourselves. We Are Incomplete Like A Book In Two Volumes Of Which The First Has Been Lost. That Is What I Imagine Love To Be: Incompleteness In Absence.

I Feel Sure That Coups D'état Would Go Much Better If There Were Seats, Boxes, And Stalls So That One Could See What Was Happening And Not Miss Anything.

Man Is A Mind Betrayed, Not Served, By His Organs.

Laughter Is The Mind's Intonation. There Are Ways Of Laughing Which Have The Sound Of Counterfeit Coins.