We Dread Old Age, Which Are Not

Such A Great Misfortune, Not To Be Able To Be Alone.

An Egotist Will Always Speak Of Himself, Either In Praise Or In Censure, But A Modest Man Ever Shuns Making Himself The Subject Of His Conversation.

There Are Some Souls So Base And Filthy That They Love Gain And Interest As Noble Souls Love Fame And Virtue, Knowing One Pleasure Only, That Of Making Money Or Of Not Losing It; Anxious And Avid For Their Ten Per Cent; Entirely Preoccupied With What Is Owed Them; Forever Concerned About The Depreciation Or Discredit Of Money; Buried, And As It Were Engulfed, Amid Contracts, Title-deeds And Parchments. Such People Are Neither Parents, Friends, Citizens Or Christians, Nor, Perhaps, Even Men; They Merely Have Money.

A Man Must Be Completely Wanting In Intelligence If He Does Not Show It When Actuated By Love, Malice, Or Necessity.

Making A Book Is A Craft, Like Making A Clock; It Needs More Than Native Wit To Be An Author.