The Only Good Histories Are Those Written

I Do Not Understand; I Pause; I Examine.

And If Nobody Reads Me, Shall I Have Wasted My Time, When I Have Beguiled So Many Idle Hours With Such Pleasant And Profitable Reflections?

I Never Met A Man Who Thought His Thinking Was Faulty.

Those Things That Are Dearest To Us Have Cost Us The Most.

How Many We Know Who Have Fled The Sweetness Of A Tranquil Life In Their Homes, Among The Friends, To Seek The Horror Of Uninhabitable Deserts; Who Have Flung Themselves Into Humiliation, Degradation, And The Contempt Of The World, And Have Enjoyed These And Even Sought Them Out.