Only Those Who Get Into Scrapes With

All My Life, As Down An Abyss Without A Bottom. I Have Been Pouring Van Loads Of Information Into That Vacancy Of Oblivion I Call My Mind.

Our Names Are Labels, Plainly Printed On The Bottled Essence Of Our Past Behavior.

Don't Laugh At Youth For His Affectations; He Is Only Trying On One Face After Another To Find His Own.

What Joy Can The Years Bring Half So Sweet As The Unhappiness They've Taken Away?

So, I Never Lose A Sense Of The Whimsical And Perilous Charm Of Daily Life, With Its Meetings And Words And Accidents.