Melancholy Is The Pleasure Of Being Sad.

Mankind Is Not A Circle With A Single Center But An Ellipse With Two Focal Points Of Which Facts Are One And Ideas The Other.

Those Who Every Morning Plan The Transactions Of The Day And Follow Out That Plan Carry A Thread That Will Guide Them Through The Labyrinth Of The Most Busy Life. The Orderly Arrangement Of Their Time Is Like A Ray Of Light Which Darts Itself Through All Their Occupations. But Where No Plan Is Laid, Where The Disposal Of Time Is Surrendered Merely To The Chance Of Incidents, Chaos Will Soon Reign.

If The Infinite Had No Me, Then Me Would Be Its Limit. It Would Not Be The Infinite, Therefore It Would Not Be.

Let Us Admit, Without Bitterness, That The Individual Has His Distinct Interests And Can, Without Felony, Stipulate For Those Interests And Defend Them. The Present Has Its Pardonable Amount Of Egotism; Momentary Life Has Its Claims, And Cannot Be Expected To Sacrifice Itself Incessantly To The Future. The Generation Which Is In Its Turn Passing Over The Earth Is Not Forced To Abridge Its Life For The Sake Of The Generations, Its Equals After All, Whose Turn Shall Come Later On.

If People Did Not Love One Another, I Really Don't See What Use There Would Be In Having Any Spring.