The Equally Is A Political Theory, But

Feel, He Told Himself, Feel, Feel, Feel. Even If What You Feel Is Pain, Only Let Yourself Feel.

Not So Much Two Ships Passing In The Night As Two Ships Sailing Together For A Time But Always Bound For Different Ports.

A Picnic May Well Be A Metaphor For Life. The Essentials For Happiness Are The Right Company, Moderate If Sanguine Expectations And A Reasonable Standard Of Physical Sustenance And Comfort, The Whole Being Bedeviled By The Belief That There Is Always Something Better To Be Had If Only One Presses On.

Ambition, If It Were To Be Savored, Let Alone Achieved, Had To Be Rooted In Possibility.

Without The Hope Of Posterity, For Our Race If Not For Ourselves, Without The Assurance That We Being Dead Yet Live, All Pleasures Of The Mind And Senses Sometimes Seem To Me No More Than Pathetic And Crumbling Defences Shored Up Against Our Ruin.