Only The Impossible Lasts Forever.

None Of Us Suffers As Much As We Should, Or Loves As Much As We Say. Love Is The First Lie; Wisdom The Last.

Well, Isn't Bohemia A Place Where Everyone Is As Good As Everyone Else - And Must Not A Waiter Be A Little Less Than A Waiter To Be A Good Bohemian?

Destiny And History Are Untidy.

Our Bones Ache Only While The Flesh Is On Them. Stretch It As Thin As The Temple Flesh Of An Ailing Woman And Still It Serves To Ache The Bone And To Move The Bone About; And In Like Manner The Night Is A Skin Pulled Over The Head Of Day That The Day May Be In A Torment. We Will Find No Comfort Until The Night Melts Away; Until The Fury Of The Night Rots Out Its Fire.

Una's Face Was An Unbroken Block Of Calculation, Saving Where, Upon Her Upper Lip, A Little Down Of Hair Fluttered. Yet It Gave One An Uncanny Feeling. It Made One Think Of A Tassel On A Hammer.