A Man Must Either Imitate The Vicious

I Want Death To Find Me Planting My Cabbages, But Careless Of Death, And Still More Of My Unfinished Garden.

I Go Out Of My Way, But Rather By License Than Carelessness.... It Is The Inattentive Reader Who Loses My Subject, Not I. Some Word About It Will Always Be Found Off In A Corner, Which Will Not Fail To Be Sufficient, Though It Takes Little Room.

If My Intentions Were Not To Be Read In My Eyes And Voice, I Should Not Have Survived So Long Without Quarrels And Without Harm, Seeing The Indiscreet Freedom With Which I Say, Right Or Wrong, Whatever Comes Into My Head.

I Walk Firmer And More Secure Uphill Than Down.

The Finest Lives In My Opinion Are The Common Model, Without Miracle And Without Extravagance.