Ah! Devout Though I May Be, I

There Is No Rampart That Will Hold Out Against Malice.

The More We Love Our Friends, The Less We Flatter Them; It Is By Excusing Nothing That Pure Love Shows Itself.

Books And Marriage Go Ill Together.

All Which Is Not Prose Is Verse; And All Which Is Not Verse Is Prose.

We Are All Mortals, And Each Is For Himself.