True Felicity Consists Of Its Own Consciousness.

The Most Civilized People Are As Near To Barbarism As The Most Polished Steel Is To Rust. Nations, Like Metals, Have Only A Superficial Brilliancy.

A Fool May Have His Coat Embroidered With Gold, But It Is A Fool's Coat Still.

Ideas Are A Capital That Bears Interest Only In The Hands Of Talent.

That Which Happens To The Soil When It Ceases To Be Cultivated By The Social Man Happens To Man Himself When He Foolishly Forsakes Society For Solitude; The Brambles Grow Up In His Desert Heart.

The Personal Pronoun "i" Should Be The Coat Of Arms Of Some Individuals.