It's a sad day when you find out that it's not accident or time or fortune, but just yourself that kept things from you.
The past with its pleasures, its rewards, its foolishness, it punishments, is there for each of us forever, and it should be.
Cynicism is an unpleasant way of saying the truth.
The only thing good about it is you're not dead.
Nobody outside of a baby carriage or a judge's chamber believes in an unprejudiced point of view.
Nothing, of course, begins at the time you think it did.
I cannot and will not cut my conscience to fit this year's fashions.