There Is Never Any Peace For Those

So Long As We Are Full Of Self We Are Shocked At The Faults Of Others. Let Us Think Often Of Our Own Sin, And We Shall Be Lenient To The Sins Of Others.

The Blood Of A Nation Ought Never To Be Shed Except For Its Own Preservation In The Utmost Extremity.

Our Piety Must Be Weak And Imperfect If It Do Not Conquer Our Fear Of Death.

Nothing Is So Costly As The Pursuit Of A Cure For Imaginary Ills.

It Is Often Our Own Imperfection Which Makes Us Reprove The Imperfection Of Others; A Sharp-sighted Self-love Of Others