There must have been a time$$$ in the beginning$$$ when we could have said -- no. But somehow we missed it. Oh well$$$ we'll know better next time.

Revolution is a trivial shift in the emphasis of suffering.

I am not my body. My body is nothing without me.

I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing.

I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.

I may not be a first-rate composer$$$ but I am a first-class second-rate composer.

I mean$$$ if Beethoven had been killed in a plane crash at twenty-two$$$ the history of music would have been very different. As would the history of aviation$$$ of course.

Wine is bottled poetry.

If I am the chief of sinners$$$ I am the chief of sufferers also.

So long as we love we serve; so long as we are loved by others$$$ I would almost say that we are indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend.