he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

ROSALIND: Mother, I never think about money.
MRS. CONNAGE: You never keep it long enough to think about it.

But an inferior talent can only be graceful when it's carrying inferior ideas. And the more narrowly you can look at a thing the more entertaining you can be about it.

What a feeble thing intelligence is, with its short steps, its waverings, its pacings back and forth, its disastrous retreats! Intelligence is a mere instrument of circumstances. There are people who say that intelligence must have built the universe - why, intelligence never built a steam-engine! Circumstances built a steam-engine. Intelligence is little more than a short foot-rule by which we measure the infinite achievements of Circumstances.