Wit Is The God Of Moments, But

The News-writer Lies Down At Night In Great Tranquillity, Upon A Piece Of News Which Corrupts Before Morning, And Which He Is Obliged To Throw Away As Soon As He Awakes.

The Exact Contrary Of What Is Generally Believed Is Often The Truth.

There Are Some Souls So Base And Filthy That They Love Gain And Interest As Noble Souls Love Fame And Virtue, Knowing One Pleasure Only, That Of Making Money Or Of Not Losing It; Anxious And Avid For Their Ten Per Cent; Entirely Preoccupied With What Is Owed Them; Forever Concerned About The Depreciation Or Discredit Of Money; Buried, And As It Were Engulfed, Amid Contracts, Title-deeds And Parchments. Such People Are Neither Parents, Friends, Citizens Or Christians, Nor, Perhaps, Even Men; They Merely Have Money.

The Great Gift Of Conversation Lies Less In Displaying It Ourselves Than In Drawing It Out Of Others. He Who Leaves Your Company Pleased With Himself And His Own Cleverness Is Perfectly Well Pleased With You.

A Man Starts Upon A Sudden, Takes Pen, Ink, And Paper, And Without Ever Having Had A Thought Of It Before, Resolves Within Himself He Will Write A Book; He Has No Talent At Writing, But He Wants Fifty Guineas.