Misery Is Almost Always The Result Of

Ideas Never Lack For Words. It Is Words That Lack Ideas. As Soon As The Idea Has Come To Its Last Degree Of Perfection, The Word Blossoms.

Living Requires But Little Life; Doing Requires Much.

There Are Those To Whom One Must Advise Madness.

Our Life Is Woven Wind.

Truth Takes The Stamp Of The Souls It Enters. It Is Rigorous And Rough In Arid Souls, But Tempers And Softens Itself In Loving Natures.