Woe To Him Who Doesn't Know How

Refusing To Have An Opinion Is A Way Of Having One, Isn't It?

The Facts Are To Blame, My Friend. We Are All Imprisoned By Facts: I Was Born, I Exist.

Man Never Reasons So Much And Becomes So Introspective As When He Suffers; Since He Is Anxious To Get At The Cause Of His Sufferings, To Learn Who Has Produced Them, And Whether It Is Just Or Unjust That He Should Have To Bear Them.

A Fact Is Like A Sack Which Won't Stand Up If It's Empty. In Order That It May Stand Up, One Has To Put Into It The Reason And Sentiment Which Caused It To Exist.

In Bed My Real Love Has Always Been The Sleep That Rescued Me By Allowing Me To Dream.