Only connect the prose and the passion$$$ and both will be exalted$$$ and human love will be seen at its highest. Live in fragments no longer.

A business absolutely devoted to service will have only one worry about profits. They will be embarrassingly large.

There is joy in work. There is no happiness except in the realization that we have accomplished something.

Nothing is particularly hard if you divide it into small jobs.

But of course he hates you for being in the army. All the men who arent hate all the men that are.

Words passed$$$ but words could no more prove an established innocence than words can enhance a love that exists.

I have always tried to live in an ivory tower$$$ but a tide of shit is beating at its walls$$$ threatening to undermine it.

Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom.

You need a high degree of corruption or a very big heart to love absolutely everything

Writing is a dogs life$$$ but the only one worth living.