People Always Complain About Their Memories, Never

To Establish Oneself In The World, One Does All One Can To Seem Established There Already.

We Have More Indolence In The Mind Than In The Body.

A Man Convinced Of His Own Merit Will Accept Misfortune As An Honor, For Thus Can He Persuade Others, As Well As Himself, That He Is A Worthy Target For The Arrows Of Fate.

How Can We Expect Another To Keep Our Secret If We Have Been Unable To Keep It Ourselves?

Everyone Complains Of His Memory, And Nobody Complains Of His Judgment.