If Only People Thought A Little More

Happy People Are Ignoramuses And Glory Is Nothing Else But Success, And To Achieve It One Only Has To Be Cunning.

A Strange Thing, The Human Heart In General, And Woman's Heart In Particular.

Love, Like Fire, Goes Out Without Fuel.

The History Of A Man's Soul, Even The Pettiest Soul, Is Hardly Less Interesting And Useful Than The History Of A Whole People; Especially When The Former Is The Result Of The Observations Of A Mature Mind Upon Itself, And Has Been Written Without Any Egotistical Desire Of Arousing Sympathy Or Astonishment. Rousseau's Confessions Has Precisely This Defect – He Read It To His Friends.

Many A Calm River Begins As A Turbulent Waterfall, Yet None Hurtles And Foams All The Way To The Sea.