Let me go to hell, that's all I ask, and go on cursing them there, and them look down and hear me, that might take some of the shine off their bliss.
We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?
James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.