Morality, When Formal, Devours.

At The Heart Of All Beauty Lies Something Inhuman, And These Hills, The Softness Of The Sky, The Outline Of These Trees At This Very Minute Lose The Illusory Meaning With Which We Had Clothed Them, Henceforth More Remote Than A Lost Paradise . . . That Denseness And That Strangeness Of The World Is Absurd.

The Look Of Success, When It Is Worn A Certain Way, Would Infuriate A Jackass.

A Single Sentence Will Suffice For Modern Man. He Fornicated And Read The Papers. After That Vigorous Definition, The Subject Will Be, If I May Say So, Exhausted.

There Is But One Truly Serious Philosophical Problem And That Is Suicide.

Believe Me, The Hardest Thing For A Man To Give Up Is That Which He Really Doesn't Want, After All.