We Rarely Repent Of Speaking Little, But

Profane Eloquence Is Transfered From The Bar, Where Le Maitre, Pucelle, And Fourcroy Formerly Practised It, And Where It Has Become Obsolete, To The Pulpit, Where It Is Out Of Place.

Days, Months, Years Fly Away, And Irrecoverably Sink In The Abyss Of Time.

Anything Is A Temptation To Those Who Dread It.

Discourtesy Does Not Spring Merely From One Bad Quality, But From Several--from Foolish Vanity, From Ignorance Of What Is Due To Others, From Indolence, From Stupidity, From Distraction Of Thought, From Contempt Of Others, From Jealousy.

Nothing Is Easier For Passion Than To Overcome Reason, But The Greatest Triumph Is To Conquer A Man's Own Interests.