Is Pride, The Never-failing Vice Of Fools.

The Vanity Of Human Life Is Like A River, Constantly Passing Away, And Yet Constantly Coming On.

Our Judgments, Like Our Watches, None Go Just Alike, Yet Each Believes His Own

Get Your Enemy To Read Your Works In Order To Mend Them, For Your Friend Is So Much Your Second Self That He Will Judge Too Like You.

This Long Disease, My Life.

In This Commonplace World Every One Is Said To Be Romantic Who Either Admires A Fine Thing Or Does One.