For Still I See That Forethought Spares

... How Poorly Do We Love Even Those Whom We Love Most! We Are Not Only Bruised By The Limitations Of Their Love For Us, But Also By The Limitations Of Our Own Love For Them.

I Have Seen That Every One Forgives Much In Themselves That They Find Unpardonable In Other People.

Injustice Is A Sixth Sense, And Rouses All The Others.

I Wear The Key Of Memory, And Can Open Every Door In The House Of My Life.

Mediocrity Is Always In A Rush; But Whatever Is Worth Doing At All Is Worth Doing With Consideration. For Genius Is Nothing More Nor Less Than Doing Well What Anyone Can Do Badly.