He read at wine, he read in bed, He read aloud, had he the breath, His every thought was with the dead, And so he read himself to death. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

It makes me sad because I've never seen such — such beautiful shirts before.

There’s a loneliness that only exists in one’s mind. The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is blink.

Once upon a time all the men of mind and genius in the world became of one belief—that is to say, of no belief. But it wearied them to think that within a few years after their death many cults and systems and prognostications would be ascribed to them which they had never meditated nor intended. So they said to one another: