Death Kit

Watkins said no with the practiced brusque delivery of a man who's always been rather sparing with his yes.

And isn't it usually so, that lovers who share their daily lives with each other gradually find they need to put very little into words?

To love one's work is a way of loving oneself, and leaves one freer to love other people.

But beware the difference between loving one's work and being merely engrossed in it.

Don't be too hard on the envious. Be glad you have, or had in the past, something enviable.

According to an old rule of psychic contagion: that absence of clarity or outright confusion in one, just one specific, local matter will end by infecting the whole of one's judgment.

If Diddy already knows what he does that's foolish and stupid, why can't he become wise? Act wisely. For, oh, Diddy has perceived his follies countless times. Is heartily ashamed of them, strenuously repudiates them. It's only that he doesn't understand. Not really. A hopeless, bumbling tourist in the somber labyrinth of his own consciousness.

"It depends on me, whether I'm happy within myself."

Necessary for Diddy the Disciplined to proceed systematically, or he'll get lost. There's a system of priorities here, as anywhere else, that Diddy might be wise to observe.