The Smallest Annoyances, Disturb Us The Most.

We Are Nearer Neighbors To Ourselves Than The Whiteness Of Snow Or The Weight Of Stones Are To Us: If Man Does Not Know Himself, How Should He Know His Functions And Powers?

To Die Is Not To Play A Part In Society; It Is The Act Of A Single Person. Let Us Live And Laugh Among Our Friends; Let Us Die And Sulk Among Strangers.

The Public Weal Requires That Men Should Betray, And Lie, And Massacre.

Some, Either From Being Glued To Vice By A Natural Attachment, Or From Long Habit, No Longer Recognize Its Ugliness.

If You Want It To Be So, History Can Be A Waste Of Time; It Can Also Be, If You Want It To Be So, A Study Bearing Fruit Beyond Price.