Beauty decays but the fruits of your brain's labour remain.

Oh, by the way, the plot: it almost slipped my mind. Charlie French bought my mother’s pictures cheap and sold them dear to Binkie Behrens, then bought them cheap from Binkie and sold them on to Max Molyneaux. Something like that. Does it matter? Dark deeds, dark deeds. Enough.

La clase de aprobación que, según Elinor, despertaban en él los dibujos de otras personas estaba muy lejos del extasiado deleite que, en su opinión, era exclusivo merecedor de ser llamado gusto.

What greater wealth is there than to own your life and to spend it on growing?

Written By Ayn Rand

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