Nothing Is Proved, All Is Permitted.

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.

Innate Sensuousness Rarely Has Any Desire For Accuracy, No Desire For Precise Information. It Basks In Sunshine, Bathes In Color, Dwells In A Sense Of The Impressive And The Gorgeous, And Rests There. Accuracy Is Not Necessary Except In The Case Of Aggressive, Acquisitive Natures, When It Manifests Itself In A Desire To Seize. True Controlling Sensuousness Cannot Be Manifested In The Most Active Dispositions, Nor Again In The Most Accurate.

We Who Feel That Justice Is Not Being Done Have But One Thing To Do: That Is Fight, By Argument, By Example, By Insistence On Fair Play Wherever We Have The Power To Do So. The Rest Is In The Hands Of The Lord, Or Nature, Which Swings, Apparently, From One Extreme To Another.

Life Is A God-damned, Stinking, Treacherous Game And Nine Hundred And Ninety-nine Men Out Of A Thousand Are Bastards.

In Order To Have Wisdom We Must Have Ignorance.