No Really Great Man Ever Thought Himself

Vice, Like Disease, Floats In The Atmosphere.

Some One Is Generally Sure To Be The Sufferer By A Joke.

The Confession Of Our Failings Is A Thankless Office. It Savors Less Of Sincerity Or Modesty Than Of Ostentation. It Seems As If We Thought Our Weaknesses As Good As Other People's Virtues.

The Safest Kind Of Praise Is To Foretell That Another Will Become Great In Some Particular Way. It Has The Greatest Show Of Magnanimity And The Least Of It In Reality.

Good Temper Is One Of The Great Preservers Of The Features.