Our Actions Are Like Blank Rhymes, To

The Defects And Faults Of The Mind Are Like Wounds In The Body; After All Imaginable Care Has Been Taken To Heal Them Up, Still There Will Be A Scar Left Behind, And They Are In Continual Danger Of Breaking The Skin And Bursting Out Again.

Humility Is The Altar Upon Which God Wishes That We Should Offer Him His Sacrifices.

The Love Of New Acquaintance Comes Not So Much From Being Weary Of What We Had Before, Or From Any Satisfaction There Is In Change, As From The Distaste We Feel In Being Too Little Admired By Those That Know Us Too Well, And The Hope Of Being More Admired By Those That Know Us Less.

He Who Imagines He Can Do Without The World Deceives Himself Much; But He Who Fancies The World Cannot Do Without Him Is Still More Mistaken.

He Is Safe Who Admits No One To His Confidence.