The Future Is Bought With The Present.

Glory, The Casual Gift Of Thoughtless Crowds! Glory, The Bribe Of Avaricious Virtue!

Hope Itself Is A Species Of Happiness, And, Perhaps, The Chief Happiness Which This World Affords; But, Like All Other Pleasures Immoderately Enjoyed, The Excesses Of Hope Must Be Expiated By Pain.

Bias And Impartiality Is In The Eye Of The Beholder.

Being Married To Those Sleepy-souled Women Is Just Like Playing At Cards For Nothing: No Passion Is Excited And The Time Is Filled Up. I Do Not, However, Envy A Fellow One Of Those Honeysuckle Wives For My Part, As They Are But Creepers At Best And Commonly Destroy The Tree They So Tenderly Cling About.

"i Fly From Pleasure," Said The Prince, "because Pleasure Has Ceased To Please; I Am Lonely Because I Am Miserable, And Am Unwilling To Cloud With My Presence The Happiness Of Others."