Fool, Not To Know That Love Endures

Secret Guilt By Silence Is Betrayed.

Criticism Is Now Become Mere Hangman's Work, And Meddles Only With The Faults Of Authors ; Nay, The Critic Is Disgusted Less With Their Absurdities Than Excellence ; And You Cannot Displease Him More Than In Leaving Him Little Room For His Malice.

For Danger Levels Man And Brute And All Are Fellows In Their Need.

Jealousy Is The Jaundice Of The Soul.

If We From Wealth To Poverty Descend, Want Gives To Know The Flatterer From The Friend.