He Who Has Once Taken To Drink

Genius Without Religion Is Only A Lamp On The Outer Gate Of A Palace; It May Serve To Cast A Gleam Of Light On Those That Are Without, While The Inhabitant Sits In Darkness.

How Short Is Human Life! The Very Breath Which Frames My Words Accelerates My Death.

Who Are Those Ever Multiplying Authors That With Unparalleled Fecundity Are Overstocking The World With Their Quick Succeeding Progeny? They Are Novel-writers.

A Faint Endeavor Ends In A Sure Defeat.

That Silence Is One Of The Great Arts Of Conversation Is Allowed By Cicero Himself, Who Says, There Is Not Only An Art, But Even An Eloquence In It