Shakespeare's Fault Is Not The Greatest Into

The God Of The Christians Is A Father Who Makes Much Of His Apples, And Very Little Of His Children.

L'homme Est Ne Pour La Socie Te ; Se Parez-le, Isolez-le, Ses Ide Es Se De Suniront, Son Caracte' Re Se Tournera, Mille Affections Ridicules S'e Le' Veront Dans Son Coeur; Des 274 Pense Es Extravagantes Germeront Dans Son Esprit, Comme Les Ronces Dans Une Terre Sauvage. Man Is Born To Live In Society: Separate Him, Isolate Him, And His Ideas Disintegrate, His Character Changes, A Thousand Ridiculous Affectations Rise Up In His Heart; Extreme Thoughts Take Hold In His Mind, Like The Brambles In A Wild Field.

Give, But, If Possible, Spare The Poor Man The Shame Of Begging.

First Of All Move Me, Surprise Me, Rend My Heart; Make Me Tremble, Weep, Shudder; Outrage Me; Delight My Eyes Afterwards If You Can.

At An Early Age I Sucked Up The Milk Of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Terence, Anacreon, Plato And Euripides, Diluted With That Of Moses And The Prophets.