Every Man Is Grave Alone.

We Live Amid Surfaces, And The True Art Of Life Is To Skate Well On Them

Every Man Passes His Life In The Search After Friendship.

Let Him Be Great, And Love Shall Follow Him.

In Good Company, The Individuals Merge Their Egotism Into A Social Soul Exactly Co-extensive With The Several Consciousnesses There Present.

Time Is Indeed The Theater And Seat Of Illusions; Nothing Is So Ductile And Elastic. The Mind Stretches An Hour To A Century, And Dwarfs An Age To An Hour.