I hate this life of the fashionable world, always ordered, measured, ruled, like our music-paper. What I have always wished for, desired, and coveted, is the life of an artist, free and independent, relying only on my own resources, and accountable only to myself.
In other words, once all those pesky bills are paid.
Life is a storm. One minute you will bathe under the sun and the next you will be shattered upon the rocks. That's when you shout, "Do your worst, for I will do mine!" and you will be remembered forever.
Perhaps, but most of us have, no doubt, missed our chance.
And now gentlemen, all for one, one for all - that is our motto, is it not?
Great, another Commie. On the other hand...
Perhaps what I am about to say will appear strange to you gentlemen, socialists, progressives, humanitarians as you are, but I never worry about my neighbor, I never try to protect society which does not protect me -- indeed, I might add, which generally takes no heed of me except to do me harm -- and, since I hold them low in my esteem and remain neutral towards them, I believe that society and my neighbor are in my debt.
...if only to put it all in perspective.
But Valentine, why despair, why always paint the future in such sombre hues? Maximilien asked.
Because, my friend, I judge it by the past.
Let's file this one under, "touché!"
On what slender threads do life and fortune hang.
Death and misfortune too.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles
Objectivists: Like shooting turds in a barrel.
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