I live with the people I create and it has always made my essential loneliness less keen.
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The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect.
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The theme is the theme of humiliation, which is the square root of sin, as opposed to the freedom from humiliation, and love, which is the square root of wonderful.
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There's nothing that makes you so aware of the improvisation of human existence as a song unfinished. Or an old address book.
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