Provided A Man Is Not Mad, He

Christ Preaches Only Servitude And Dependence... True Christians Are Made To Be Slaves.

Consolation Indiscreetly Pressed Upon Us, When We Are Suffering Undue Affliction, Only Serves To Increase Our Pain, And To Render Our Grief More Poignant.

We Do Not Know Either Unalloyed Happiness Or Unmitigated Misfortune. Everything In This World Is A Tangled Yarn; We Taste Nothing In Its Purity; We Do Not Remain Two Moments In The Same State. Our Affections As Well As Bodies, Are In A Perpetual Flux.

Fame Is But The Breath Of People, And That Often Unwholesome.

I Hate Books; They Only Teach Us To Talk About Things We Know Nothing About.