You Have Your Face Bare; I Am

Men Are Nothing Until They Are Excited.

The World Is All A Carcass And Vanity, The Shadow Of A Shadow, A Play And In One Word, Just Nothing.

The Souls Of Emperors And Cobblers Are Cast In The Same Mold...the Same Reason That Makes Us Wrangle With A Neighbor Creates A War Betwixt Princes.

The Vulgar And Common Esteem Is Seldom Happy In Hitting Right; And I Am Much Mistaken If, Amongst The Writings Of My Time, The Worst Are Not Those Which Have Most Gained The Popular Applause.

Ambition Is, Of All Other, The Most Contrary Humor To Solitude; And Glory And Repose Are So Inconsistent That They Cannot Possibly Inhabit One And The Same Place; And For So Much As I Understand, Those Have Only Their Arms And Legs Disengaged From The Crowd, Their Mind And Intention Remain Engaged Behind More Than Ever.