Facts Are The Enemy Of Truth.

I Had Rather Munch A Crust Of Brown Bread And An Onion In A Corner, Without Any More Ado Or Ceremony, Than Feed Upon Turkey At Another Man?s Table, Where One Is Fain To Sit Mincing And Chewing His Meat An Hour Together, Drink Little, Be Always Wiping His Fingers And His Chops, And Never Dare To Cough Nor Sneeze, Though He Has Never So Much A Mind To It, Nor Do A Many Things Which A Body May Do Freely By One?s Self.

Lovers Are Commonly Industrious To Make Themselves Uneasy.

There Is No Book So Bad...that It Does Not Have Something Good In It.

Our Greatest Foes, And Whom We Must Chiefly Combat, Are Within.

There Is No Jewel In The World So Valuable As A Chaste And Virtuous Woman.