Where Id Was, There Ego Shall Be.

What We Call Happiness In The Strictest Sense Comes From The (preferably Sudden) Satisfaction Of Needs Which Have Been Dammed Up To A High Degree.

Perhaps The Gods Are Kind To Us, By Making Life More Disagreeable As We Grow Older. In The End Death Seems Less Intolerable Than The Manifold Burdens We Carry

Only A Rebuke That 'has Something In It' Will Sting, Will Have The Power To Stir Our Feelings, Not The Other Sort, As We Know.

Humor Is A Means Of Obtaining Pleasure In Spite Of The Distressing Effects That Interface With It.

When We Attempt To Imagine Death, We Perceive Ourselves As Spectators.