The Opinions Of The Misanthropical Rest Upon

Men, Like Musical Instruments, Seem Made To Be Played Upon.

Living With A Saint Is More Grueling Than Being One.

We Fear Things In Proportion To Our Ignorance Of Them.

We Repose Too Much Upon The Actual, When We Should Be Seeking To Develop The Possibilities Of Our Being. It Is True Of Nearly All Of Us, That What We Have Done Is Little Compared With What We Might Have Accomplished, Or May Hereafter Effect.

The Worst Deluded Are The Self-deluded.