It is as though the space between us were time: an irrevocable quality. It is as though time$$$ no longer running straight before us in a diminishing line$$$ now runs parallel between us like a looping string$$$ the distance being the doubling accretion of the thread and not the interval between.

And I reckon them that are good must suffer for it the same as them that are bad.

Whatever Nature has in store for mankind$$$ unpleasant as it may be$$$ men must accept$$$ for ignorance is never better than knowledge.

That's what they mean by the womb of time: the agony and the despair of spreading bones$$$ the hard girdle in which lie the outraged entrails of events.

...like old married people who no longer have anything in common$$$ to do or to talk about$$$ save the same general weight of air to displace and breathe and general oblivious biding earth to bear their weight...

I heard that my mother is dead. I wish I had time to let her die. I wish I had time to wish I had. It is because in the wild and outraged earth too soon too soon too soon. It's not that I wouldn't and will not it's that it is too soon too soon too soon.

I doubt we will ever be forgiven. All I hope is they'll remember we were human beings.

What sets a man writhing sleepless in bed at night is not having injured his fellow so much as having been wrong; the mere injury he can efface by destroying the victim and the witness but the mistake is his and that is one of his cats which he always prefers to choke to death with butter.

Anger exceeding limits causes fear and excessive kindness eliminates respect.

Asked how a man should best grieve his enemy$$$ Epictetus replied$$$ "By setting himself to live the noblest life himself."