It Is We That Are Blind, Not

I Envy No Man That Knows More Than Myself, But Pity Them That Know Less.

Rough Diamonds May Sometimes Be Mistaken For Worthless Pebbles.

To Extend Our Memories By Monuments, Whose Death We Daily Pray For, And Whose Duration We Cannot Hope, Without Injury To Our Expectations In The Advent Of The Last Day, Were A Contradiction To Our Belief.

It Is We That Are Blind, Not Fortune; Because Our Eye Is Too Dim To Discern The Mystery Of Her Effects, We Foolishly Paint Her Blind, And Hoodwink The Providence Of The Almighty.

Yet Is Every Man His Greatest Enemy, And, As It Were, His Own Executioner.