There May Be Responsible Persons, But There

There Are More Things To Admire In Men Than To Despise.

Mistakes Are Joyful, Truth Infernal.

Without Memories, Without Hope, They Lived For The Moment Only. Indeed, The Here And Now Had Come To Mean Everything To Them. For There Is No Denying That The Plague Had Gradually Killed Off In All Of Us The Faculty Not Of Love Only But Even Of Friendship. Naturally Enough, Since Love Asks Something Of The Future, And Nothing Was Left Us But A Series Of Present Moments.

One Grows Out Of Pity When It's Useless.

I May Not Have Been Sure About What Really Did Interest Me, But I Was Absolutely Sure About What Didn't.