When An Idea Is Wanting, A Word

We Are Our Own Devils; We Drive Ourselves Out Of Our Edens.

No One Knows What He Is Doing So Long As He Is Acting Rightly; But Of What Is Wrong One Is Always Conscious.

Everyone Only Hears What He Understands.

Self-love Exaggerates Our Faults As Well As Our Virtues.

If A Poet Would Work Politically, He Must Give Himself Up To A Party; And So Soon As He Does That, He Is Lost As A Poet.