When A Man, However Passively, Becomes An

The Most Futile Thing In This World Is Any Attempt, Perhaps, At Exact Definition Of Character. All Individuals Are A Bundle Of Contradictions - None More So Than The Most Capable.

It Isn't Myself That's Important In This Transaction Apparently; The Individual Doesn't Count Much In The Situation...all Of Us Are More Or Less Pawns. We're Moved About Like Chessmen By Circumstances Over Which We Have No Control.

It Is A Sad Thing To Want For Happiness, But It Is A Terrible Thing To See Another Groping About Blindly For It, When It Is Almost Within The Grasp.

A Thought Will Color A World For Us.

The Mystery Of Life--its Inexplicability, Beauty, Cruelty, Tenderness, Folly . . . Has Occupied The Greater Part Of My Waking Thoughts; And In Reverence Or Rage Or Irony, As The Moment Or Situation Might Dictate, I Have Pondered And Even Demanded Of Cosmic Energy To Know Why.