False Modesty Is The Refinement Of Vanity.

There Is No Road Too Long To The Man Who Advances Deliberately And Without Undue Haste; There Are No Honors Too Distant To The Man Who Prepares Himself For Them With Patience.

For A Long Time Visits Among Lovers And Professions Of Love Are Kept Up Through Habit, After Their Behavior Has Plainly Proved That Love No Longer Exists.

False Modesty Is The Refinement Of Vanity. It Is A Lie.

Whatever Is Certain In Death Is Slightly Alleviated By What Is Not So Infallible; The Time When It Shall Happen Is Undefined, But It Is More Or Less Connected With The Infinite, And What We Call Eternity.

Criticism Is Often Not A Science; It Is A Craft, Requiring More Good Health Than Wit, More Hard Work Than Talent, More Habit Than Native Genius. In The Hands Of A Man Who Has Read Widely But Lacks Judgment, Applied To Certain Subjects It Can Corrupt Both Its Readers And The Writer Himself.