The Word Happiness Exists In Every Language;

We Have Shared Out, Like Thieves, The Amazing Treasures Of Days And Nights.

There Is No Intellectual Exercise Which Is Not Ultimately Useless.

Writing Long Books Is A Laborious And Impoverishing Act Of Foolishness: Expanding In Five Hundred Pages An Idea That Could Be Perfectly Explained In A Few Minutes. A Better Procedure Is To Pretend That Those Books Already Exist And To Offer A Summary, A Commentary.

Time Is The Substance From Which I Am Made. Time Is A River Which Carries Me Along, But I Am The River; It Is A Tiger That Devours Me, But I Am The Tiger; It Is A Fire That Consumes Me, But I Am The Fire.

Reality Is Partial To Symmetry And Slight Anachronisms