Hatred Is The Madness Of The Heart.

Society Is Now One Polished Horde, Formed Of Two Mighty Tries, The Bores And Bored.

It Is Not For Minds Like Ours To Give Or To Receive Flatter; Yet The Praises Of Sincerity Have Ever Been Permitted To The Voice Of Friendship

I Am Acquainted With No Immaterial Sensuality So Delightful As Good Acting.

Now I Shall Go To Sleep. Goodnight.

Then Farewell, Horace; Whom I Hated So, Not For Thy Faults, But Mine.