The Simple Life Is Not A Simple

Many Gloat Over Their Own Troubles.

Sometimes I Discover I Have Changed My Mind Because I Have Forgotten What I Used To Think.

Worrying Is As Futile As Boredom, But Harder Work.

The Harp Is An Insipid Instrument--no Good For Dancing, Feasting, Or Marching, Only For Sitting Primly In A Parlor Or On A Cloud.

Alone, I Am Drunk On My Thoughts; In Company, I Am Sober Again.