The Soul Paints Itself In Our Machines.

Words, Like Glass, Obscure When They Do Not Aid Vision.

Happy Is The Man Who Can Do Only One Thing; In Doing It, He Fulfills His Destiny.

What Can One Possibly Introduce Into A Mind That Is Already Full, And Full Of Itself?

Those Who Never Retract Their Opinions Love Themselves More Than They Love The Truth.

Mediocrity Is Excellence In The Eyes Of The Mediocre.