Nature Has Inclined Us To Love Men.

No One Sees What Is Before His Feet: We All Gaze At The Stars. [lat., Quod Est Ante Pedes Nemo Spectat: Coeli Scrutantur Plagas.]

I Have Never Yet Known A Poet Who Did Not Think Himself Super-excellent.

For Every Man's Nature Is Concealed With Many Folds Of Disguise, And Covered As It Were With Various Veils. His Brows, His Eyes, And Very Often His Countenance, Are Deceitful, And His Speech Is Most Commonly A Lie.

The Injuries That Befall Us Unexpectedly Are Less Severe Than Those Which Are Deliberately Anticipated.

Hatreds Not Vowed And Concealed Are To Be Feared More Than Those Openly Declared.