I Do Not Wish To Please Him;

What Is The City In Which We Sit Here, But An Aggregate Of Incongruous Materials, Which Have Obeyed The Will Of Some Man?

I Shun Father And Mother And Wife And Brother When My Genius Calls Me. I Would Write On The Lintels Of The Door-post, Whim. I Hope That It Is Somewhat Better Than Whim At Last, But We Cannot Spend The Day In Explanation.

We Must Set Up A Strong Present Tense Against All Rumors Of Wrath, Past And To Come.

Let Not The Tie Be Mercenary, Though The Service Is Measured In Money. Make Yourself Necessary To Somebody. Do Not Make Life Hard To Any.

Defect In Manners Is Usually The Defect Of Fine Perceptions. Men Are Too Coarsely Made For The Delicacy Of Beautiful Carriage And Customs. It Is Not Quite Sufficient To Good Breeding, A Union Of Kindness And Independence.