To Think Is Easy. To Act Is

Woe To Falsehood! It Affords No Relief To The Breast, Like Truth; It Gives Us No Comfort, Pains Him Who Forges It, And Like An Arrow Directed By A God Flies Back And Wounds The Archer.

People Of Uncommon Abilities Generally Fall Into Eccentricities When Their Sphere Of Life Is Not Adequate To Their Abilities.

The Little That Is Completed, Vanishes From The Sight Of One Who Looks Forward To What Is Still To Do.

At The End Of Life Thoughts Hitherto Impossible Come To The Collected Mind, Like Good Spirits Which Let Themselves Down From The Shining Heights Of The Past.

We All Walk In Mysteries. We Are Surrounded By An Atmosphere About Which We Still Know Nothing At All.