To Smell, Though Well, Is To Stink.

All The Opinions In The World Point Out That Pleasure Is Our Aim.

I Conceive That Pleasures Are To Be Avoided If Greater Pains Be The Consequence, And Pains To Be Coveted That Will Terminate In Greater Pleasures.

Nothing Fixes A Thing So Intensely In The Memory As The Wish To Forget It.

I Turn My Gaze Inward. I Fix It There And Keep It Busy. I Look Inside Myself. I Continually Observe Myself.

It Is An Injustice That An Old, Broken, Half-dead Father Should Enjoy Alone, In A Corner Of His Hearth, Possessions That Would Suffice For The Advancement And Maintenance Of Many Children.