Concealment Is The Foe Of Tranquility.

Imagination Took The Reins, And Reason, Slow-paced, Though Sure-footed, Was Unequal To A Race With So Eccentric And Flighty A Companion.

To Save The Mind From Preying Inwardly Upon Itself, It Must Be Encouraged To Some Outward Pursuit. There Is No Other Way To Elude Apathy, Or Escape Discontent; None Other To Guard The Temper From That Quarrel With Itself, Which Ultimately Ends In Quarreling With All Mankind.

While We All Desire To Live Long, We Have All A Horror Of Being Old!

To Nobody, Then, Will I Write My Journal! Since To Nobody Can I Be Wholly Unreserved, To Nobody Can I Reveal Every Thought, Every Wish Of My Heart, With The Most Unlimited Confidence, The Most Unremitting Sincerity, To The End Of My Life!

An Old Woman ... Is A Person Who Has No Sense Of Decency; If Once She Takes To Living, The Devil Himself Can't Get Rid Of Her.