Lovers Should Also Have Their Days Off.

At First, When An Idea, A Poem, Or The Desire To Write Takes Hold Of You, Work Is A Pleasure, A Delight, And Your Enthusiasm Knows No Bounds. But Later On You Work With Difficulty, Doggedly, Desperately. For Once You Have Committed Yourself To A Particular Work, Inspiration Changes Its Form And Becomes An Obsession, Like A Love-affair… Which Haunts You Night And Day! Once At Grips With A Work, We Must Master It Completely Before We Can Recover Our Idleness.

To Be One's Own Master Is To Be The Slave Of Self.

A Thought Falls Like A Ripe Fruit From The Tree Of Idleness.

Our Shadows Are Taller Than Ourselves.

Why Grab Possessions Like Thieves, Or Divide Them Like Socialists When You Can Ignore Them Like Wise Men?