A Great Passion Has No Partner.

The Enemy Of Art Is The Enemy Of Nature; Art Is Nothing But The Highest Sagacity And Exertion Of Human Nature; And What Nature Will He Honour Who Honours Not The Human?

Women Are Proverbially Credulous.

The Most Stormy Ebullitions Of Passion, From Blasphemy To Murder, Are Less Terrific Than One Single Act Of Cool Villainy.

Mistrust The Man Who Finds Everything Good, The Man Who Finds Everything Evil And Still More The Man Who Is Indifferent To Everything.

Who, In The Midst Of Just Provocation To Anger, Instantly Finds The Fit Word Which Settles All Around Him In Silence Is More Than Wise Or Just; He Is, Were He A Beggar, Of More Than Royal Blood, He Is Of Celestial Descent.