The Incentive To Ambition Is The Love

Man Is A Poetical Animal, And Delights In Fiction.

Our Repugnance To Death Increases In Proportion To Our Consciousness Of Having Lived In Vain.

We Would Willingly, And Without Remorse, Sacrifice Not Only The Present Moment, But All The Interval (no Matter How Long) That Separates Us From Any Favorite Object.

The Public Have Neither Shame Or Gratitude.

The Silence Of A Friend Commonly Amounts To Treachery. His Not Daring To Say Anything In Our Behalf Implies A Tacit Censure.