He Only Fears Men Who Does Not

Who Never Ate His Bread In Sorrow, Who Never Spent The Darksome Hours Weeping, And Watching For The Morrow,- He Knows You Not, Ye Heavenly Powers.

Man Believes Himself Always Greater Than He Is, And Is Esteemed Less Than He Is Worth.

One Is Led Astray Alike By Sympathy And Coldness, By Praise And By Blame

A Man's Name Is Not Like A Mantle Which Merely Hangs About Him...but A Perfectly Fitting Garment, Which, Like The Skin, Has Grown Over Him, At Which One Cannot Rake And Scrape Without Injuring The Man Himself.

He Who Only Tastes His Error Will Long Dwell With It, Will Take Delight In It As In A Singular Felicity; While He Who Drains It To The Dregs Will, If He Be Not Crazy, Find It To Be What It Is.