When A Woman Hath Ceased To Be

He Who Brings Ridicule To Bear Against Truth Finds In His Hand A Blade Without A Hilt. The Most Sparkling And Pointed Flame Of Wit Flickers And Expires Against The Incombustible Walls Of Her Sanctuary.

What Is Companionship Where Nothing That Improves The Intellect Is Communicated, And Where The Larger Heart Contracts Itself To The Model And Dimension Of The Smaller?

A Critic Is Never Too Severe When He Only Detects The Faults Of An Author. But He Is Worse Than Too Severe When, In Consequence Of This Detection, Be Presumes To Place Himself On A Level With Genius.

Solitude Is The Audience-chamber Of God.

Two Evils, Of Almost Equal Weight, May Befall The Man Of Erudition; Never To Be Listened To, And To Be Listened To Always.