For There Is No Air That Men

I Am Myself The Matter Of My Book.

To Smell, Though Well, Is To Stink.

To Say Less Of Yourself Than Is True Is Stupidity, Not Modesty. To Pay Yourself Less Than You Are Worth Is Cowardice And Pusillanimity.

There Is No Pleasure To Me Without Communication: There Is Not So Much As A Sprightly Thought Comes Into My Mind That It Does Not Grieve Me To Have Produced Alone, And That I Have No One To Tell It To.

We Judge A Horse Not Only By Its Pace On A Racecourse, But Also By Its Walk, Nay, When Resting In Its Stable.