They Are Happy Men Whose Natures Sort

The Pencil Of The Holy Ghost Hath Labored More In Describing The Afflictions Of Job Than The Felicities Of Solomon.

Excusations, Cessions, Modesty Itself Well Governed, Are But Arts Of Ostentation.

If I Go To The National Gallery And I Look At One Of The Great Paintings That Excite Me There, It's Not So Much The Painting That Excites Me As That The Painting Unlocks All Kinds Of Valves Of Sensation Within Me Which Return Me To Life More Violently.

It Is A Sad Fate For A Man To Die Too Well Known To Everybody Else, And Still Unknown To Himself.

But I Account The Use That A Man Should Seek Of The Publishing Of His Own Writings Before His Death, To Be But An Untimely Anticipation Of That Which Is Proper To Follow A Man, And Not To Go Along With Him.