The Two Real Problems In Life Are

I've Never Turned Over A Fig Leaf Yet That Didn't Have A Price Tag On The Other Side.

There's A Kind Of Emptiness At The Center Of Life ... Nothing To Form Your Life On, Or By.

I Have, Perhaps, A Slave-like Constitution Which Is Too Easily Restrained By Bonds; It Then Becomes Rebellious And Bursts Out In A Comic Revolution.

As For Types Like My Own, Obscurely Motivated By The Conviction That Our Existence Was Worthless If We Didn't Make A Turning Point Of It, We Were Assigned To The Humanities, To Poetry, Philosophy, Painting - The Nursery Games Of Humankind, Which Had To Be Left Behind When The Age Of Science Began. The Humanities Would Be Called Upon To Choose A Wallpaper For The Crypt, As The End Drew Near.

...chaos Doesn't Run The Whole Show.