He had developed in the most wonderful way the distinctive silliness of man without losing one jot of the natural folly of a monkey. - H. G. Wells

My pockets had always puzzled Weena, but at the last she had concluded that they were an eccentric kind of vase for floral decoration.

There it must be, I think, in the vast and eternal laws of matter, and
not in the daily cares and sins and troubles of men, that whatever is
more than animal within us must find its solace and its hope. I hope, or I
could not live.

This has ever been the fate of energy in security; it takes to art and to eroticism, and then comes languor and decay.