When Young We Are Faithful To Individuals,

The Past Is The Only Dead Thing That Smells Sweet.

Like Water, We Are Truest To Our Nature In Repose.

If Our Elaborate And Dominating Bodies Are Given Us To Be Denied At Every Turn, If Our Nature Is Always Wrong And Wicked, How Ineffectual We Are; Like Fishes Not Meant To Swim.

When Even Despair Ceases To Serve Any Creative Purpose, Then Surely We Are Justified In Suicide.

The True Function Of A Writer Is To Produce A Masterpiece And No Other Task Is Of Any Consequence.