Pride Sings And Dances; Humility Sighs.

After Voltaire: Envy Is Chained To The Portico Of The Temple Of Glory And Can Neither Enter Nor Leave.

The Theme Of My Autobiography Could Only Be Repetition.

The Right Time To Die Is Never Exactly Now.

I Will Not Tolerate Your Faults. They Are Of No Use To Me.

The Tranquility Of My Room Partakes Too Much Of Forest Lawn.