The Waste Of Plenty Is The Resource

Tea, Late Dinners And The French Revolution. I Cannot Exactly See The Connection Of Ideas.

I Like The Immaterial World. I Like To Live Among Thoughts And Images Of The Past And The Possible, And Even Of The Impossible, Now And Then.

Laughter Is Pleasant, But The Exertion At My Age Is Too Much For Me.

Time, The Foe Of Man's Dominion, Wheels Around In Ceaseless Flight, Scattering From His Hoary Pinion Shades Of Everlasting Night.

I Almost Think It Is The Ultimate Destiny Of Science To Exterminate The Human Race.