On Every Parable You Ride To Every

There Are People Who Are So Presumptuous That They Know No Other Way To Praise A Greatness That They Publicly Admire Than By Representing It As A Preliminary Stage And Bridge Leading To Themselves.

In The Knowledge Of Truth, What Really Matters Is The Possession Of It, Not The Impulse Under Which It Was Sought.

The Familiarity Of Superiors Embitters One, Because It May Not Be Returned.

What Do I Care About The Purring Of One Who Cannot Love, Like The Cat?

The Child Is Innocence And Forgetting, A New Beginning, A Game, A Wheel Rolling On Its Own, A Prime Movement, A Sacred Yes.