There Is A Plague On Man, The

I Look Upon The Too Good Opinion That Man Has Of Himself, As The Nursing Mother Of All False Opinions, Both Public And Private.

The Desire For Riches Is More Sharpened By Their Use Than By Their Need. Pleasing All: A Mark That Can Never Be Aimed At Or Hit.

Ambition Is, Of All Other, The Most Contrary Humor To Solitude; And Glory And Repose Are So Inconsistent That They Cannot Possibly Inhabit One And The Same Place; And For So Much As I Understand, Those Have Only Their Arms And Legs Disengaged From The Crowd, Their Mind And Intention Remain Engaged Behind More Than Ever.

The Births Of All Things Are Weak And Tender And Therefore We Should Have Our Eyes Intent On Beginnings.

For Among Other Things He Had Been Counseled To Bring Me To Love Knowledge And Duty By My Own Choice, Without Forcing My Will, And To Educate My Soul Entirely Through Gentleness And Freedom.