The Little People Must Be Sacred To

The Spirit Of God, Like The Sun, Always Gives All Its Light At Once. The Spirit Of Man Resembles The Pale Moon, Which Has Its Phases, Its Absences And Its Returns, Its Lucidity And Its Spots, Its Fullness And Its Disappearance, Which Borrows All Its Light From The Rays Of The Sun, And Which Still Dares To Intercept Them On Occasion.

Where No Plan Is Laid, Where The Disposal Of Time Is Surrendered Merely To The Chance Of Incident, Chaos Will Soon Reign.

Because One Doesn't Like The Way Things Are Is No Reason To Be Unjust Towards God.

Civilization Survives On The Constant Discovery Of Amity And An Equal Supply Of Damnation.

A Writer Is A World Trapped In A Person.