Do You Know What Is The Hardest

The Secret Of A Great Success For Which You Are At A Loss To Account Is A Crime That Has Never Been Found Out, Because It Was Properly Executed.

Your Modest Savant Smiles As He Says To His Admirers: What Have I Done? Nothing. Man Does Not Invent A Force, He Directs It.

I Am A Galley Slave To Pen And Ink.

Thought Is A Key To All Treasures; The Miser's Gains Are Ours Without His Cares. Thus I Have Soared Above This World, Where My Enjoyments Have Been Intellectual Joys.

Several Sorts Of Memory Exist In Us; Body And Mind Each Possesses One Peculiar To Itself. Nostalgia, For Instance, Is A Malady Of The Physical Memory.