Malice Is Poisoned By Her Own Venom.

True Love, Like The Eye, Can Bear No Flaw.

The Mingled Incentives Which Lead To Action Are Often Too Subtle And Lie Too Deep For Us To Analyze.

Who, In The Midst Of Just Provocation To Anger, Instantly Finds The Fit Word Which Settles All Around Him In Silence Is More Than Wise Or Just; He Is, Were He A Beggar, Of More Than Royal Blood, He Is Of Celestial Descent.

Malice Is Poisoned By Her Own Venom.

He Who Attempts To Make Others Believe In Means Which He Himself Despises Is A Puffer; He Who Makes Use Of More Means Than He Knows To Be Necessary Is A Quack; And He Who Ascribes To Those Means A Greater Efficacy Than His Own Experience Warrants Is An Impostor.