The Wise Person Often Shuns Society For

Days, Months, Years Fly Away, And Irrecoverably Sink In The Abyss Of Time.

One Mark Of A Second-rate Mind Is To Be Always Telling Stories.

Banter Is Often A Proof Of Want Of Intelligence.

False Greatness Is Unsociable And Remote: Conscious Of Its Own Frailty, It Hides, Or At Least Averts Its Face, And Reveals Itself Only Enough To Create An Illusion And Not Be Recognized As The Meanness That It Really Is. True Greatness Is Free, Kind, Familiar And Popular; It Lets Itself Be Touched And Handled, It Loses Nothing By Being Seen At Close Quarters; The Better One Knows It, The More One Admires It.

Grief That Is Dazed And Speechless Is Out Of Fashion: The Modern Woman Mourns Her Husband Loudly And Tells You The Whole Story Of His Death, Which Distresses Her So Much That She Forgets Not The Slightest Detail About It.