We Almost Always Forgive Those We Understand.

Passions Are Merely Ideas In Their Initial Stage.

Afraid Of Decision, I Buried My Finer Feelings In The Depths Of My Heart And They Died There.

I Have A Congenital Desire To Contradict; My Whole Life Is Merely A Chain Of Sad And Unsuccessful Contradictions To Heart And Mind. When Faced With Enthusiasm, I Am Seized By A Midwinter Freeze, And I Suppose That Frequent Dealings With Sluggish Phlegmatics Would Have Made A Passionate Dreamer.

We Practically Always Excuse Things When We Understand Them

Happy People Are Ignoramuses And Glory Is Nothing Else But Success, And To Achieve It One Only Has To Be Cunning.