Every Man Regards His Own Life As

A Scholar Knows No Boredom.

Has It Never Occurred To Us, When Surrounded By Sorrows, That They May Be Sent To Us Only For Our Instruction, As We Darken The Eyes Of Birds When We Wish Them To Sing?

God Is An Unutterable Sigh, Planted In The Depths Of The Soul.

It Is Easier And Handier For Men To Flatter Than To Praise.

Feelings Of Man Are Always Pure And The Brightest To The Meeting Time And Farewell.