To Me Avarice Seems Not So Much

The Vices We Scoff At In Others Laugh At Us Within Ourselves.

We Do But Learn To-day What Our Better Advanced Judgements Will Unteach Us Tomorrow.

Had Not Almost Every Man Suffered By The Press, Or Were Not The Tyranny Thereof Become Universal, I Had Not Wanted Reason For Complaint.

The Heart Of Man Is The Place The Devil Dwells In; I Feel Sometimes A Hell Within Myself.

By Compassion We Make Others' Misery Our Own, And So, By Relieving Them, We Relieve Ourselves Also.