No One Sees What Is Before His

It Is The Stain And Disgrace Of The Age To Envy Virtue, And To Be Anxious To Crush The Very Flower Of Dignity.

They Are Eloquent Who Can Speak Low Things Acutely, And Of Great Things With Dignity, And Of Moderate Things With Temper.

If I Err In Belief That The Souls Of Men Are Immortal, I Gladly Err, Nor Do I Wish This Error Which Gives Me Pleasure To Be Wrested From Me While I Live.

Nothing Stands Out So Conspicuously, Or Remains So Firmly Fixed In The Memory, As Something Which You Have Blundered.

Few Are Those Who Wish To Be Endowed With Virtue Rather Than To Seem So.