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Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.
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No mockery in the world ever sounds to me as hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure.
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Feeling without judgement is a washy draught indeed but judgement untempered by feeling is too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition.
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You had no right to be born; for you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with yourself, as a reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten your feebleness on some other person's strength.
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Life is so constructed that an event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.
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