One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats, and if some of these can be inexpensive and quickly procured so much the better.

"He/She may not have learned much, but at least he/she has learned to give up the search for perfection, whether it be though sainthood or romantic love."

Simple joys are best, as any intelligent self-lover knows.

What an egoist I must seem in the preceeding pages. But am I so exceptional? We must live by the light of our own self-satisfaction, through that secret vital busy inwardness which is evne more remarkable than our reason. Thus we must live unless we are saints, and are there any?