We Confess To Little Faults Only To

There Is A Kind Of Love, The Excess Of Which Forbids Jealousy.

Chance Corrects Us Of Many Faults That Reason Would Not Know How To Correct.

Those Only Are Despicable Who Fear To Be Despised.

Too Great Haste To Repay An Obligation Is A Kind Of Ingratitude.

Everyone Agrees That A Secret Should Be Kept Intact, But Everyone Does Not Agree As To The Nature And Importance Of Secrecy. Too Often We Consult Ourselves As To What We Should Say, What We Should Leave Unsaid. There Are Few Permanent Secrets, And The Scruple Against Revealing Them Will Not Last Forever.