Man Has Not A Greater Enemy Than

Sameness Is The Mother Of Disgust, Variety The Cure.

Gold, Silver, Jewels, Purple Garments, Houses Built Of Marble, Groomed Estates, Pious Paintings, Caparisoned Steeds, And Other Things Of This Kind Offer A Mutable And Superficial Pleasure; Books Give Delight To The Very Marrow Of One's Bones. They Speak To Us, Consult With Us, And Join With Us In A Living And Intense Intimacy.

Books Have Led Some To Learning And Others To Madness.

To Begin With Myself, Then, The Utterances Of Men Concerning Me Will Differ Widely, Since In Passing Judgment Almost Every One Is Influenced Not So Much By Truth As By Preference, And Good And Evil Report Alike Know No Bounds.

And I Live On, But In Grief And Self-contempt, Left Here Without The Light I Loved So Much, In A Great Tempest And With Shrouds Unkempt.