Children Are What The Mothers Are.

Life And Death Appear More Certainly Ours Than Whatsoever Else; And Yet Hardly Can That Be Called Ours, Which Comes Without Our Knowledge, And Goes Without It.

There Are Proud Men Of So Much Delicacy That It Almost Conceals Their Pride, And Perfectly Excuses It.

Fame Often Rests At First Upon Something Accidental, And Often, Too, Is Swept Away, Or For A Time Removed; But Neither Genius Nor Glory, Is Conferred At Once, Nor Do They Glimmer And Fall, Like Drops In A Grotto, At A Shout.

Every Witticism Is An Inexact Thought; That Which Is Perfectly True Is Imperfectly Witty.

Experience Is Our Only Teacher Both In War And Peace.