Man Is Almost Always As Wicked As

The Artisan Or Scientist Or The Follower Of Whatever Discipline Who Has The Habit Of Comparing Himself Not With Other Followers But With The Discipline Itself Will Have A Lower Opinion Of Himself, The More Excellent He Is.

I May Be Wrong, But It Seems Rare In Our Age To Find A Widely Praised Person Whose Own Mouth Is Not The Source Of That Praise.

In All Climates, Under All Skies, Man's Happiness Is Always Somewhere Else.

Men Do Not So Much Hate An Evil-doer, Or Evil Itself, As They Hate The Man Who Calls Evil By Its Real Name.

Nothing In The World Is So Rare As A Person One Can Always Put Up With.