Revenge Leads To An Empty Fullness, Like

We Are Irritated By Rascals, Intolerant Of Fools, And Prepared To Love The Rest. But Where Are They?

Love Looks Forward, Hate Looks Back, Anxiety Has Eyes All Over Its Head.

Neurosis Is No Worse Than A Bad Cold; You Ache All Over, And It's Made You A Mess, But You Won't Die From It.

I'm Afraid To Win, And Afraid To Lose; I Hate A Draw And Can't Stop Competing; Otherwise I'm Fine.

Most Of Our Diversions Do Not So Much Delay Death As Accustom Us To It.