We Can Do What We Wish, But

Intellect Is A Magnitude Of Intensity, Not A Magnitude Of Extensity.

We Deceive And Flatter No One By Such Delicate Artificies As We Do Our Own Selves.

That Human Life Must Be Some Kind Of Mistake Is Sufficiently Proved By The Simple Observation That Man Is A Compound Of Needs Which Are Hard To Satisfy; That Their Satisfaction Achieves Nothing But A Painless Condition In Which He Is Only Given Over To Boredom . . .

Style Is What Gives Value And Currency To Thoughts.

The Fundament Upon Which All Our Knowledge And Learning Rests Is The Inexplicable.