People don't love each other at our age$$$ Marthethey please each other$$$ that's all. Later on$$$ when you're old and impotent$$$ you can love someone. At our age$$$ you just think you do. That's all it is.

He who thinks he knows$$$ doesn't know. He who knows that he doesn't know$$$ knows.

The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.

The demon that you can swallow gives you its power$$$ and the greater life's pain$$$ the greater lifes reply.

It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble$$$ there lies your treasure.

If the path before you is clear$$$ you're probably on someone else's.

Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness.

The world is teeming; anything can happen.

Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure$$$ there is no sterner moralist then Pleasure.

This is the age of oddities let loose.