What Isn’t Clear, Isn’t French.

The Despotism Of Will In Ideas Is Styled Plan, Project, Character, Obstinacy; Its Despotism In Desires Is Called Passion.

It Is, No Doubt, An Immense Advantage To Have Done Nothing, But One Should Not Abuse It.

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.

Memory Always Obeys The Commands Of The Heart.

There Is Nothing So Unready As Readiness Of Wit.