No Wind Serves Him Who Addresses His

Books Are A Languid Pleasure.

Every One Rushes Elsewhere And Into The Future, Because No One Wants To Face One's Own Inner Self.

'tis The Sharpness Of Our Mind That Gives The Edge To Our Pains And Pleasures.

No Man Divulges His Revenue, Or At Least Which Way It Comes In: But Every One Publishes His Acquisitions.

To Understand Via The Heart Is Not To Understand.