How Sweet And Sacred Idleness

The Tomb Is The Pedestal Of Greatness. I Make A Distinction Between God's Great And The King's Great.

The Sweetest Souls, Like The Sweetest Flowers, Soon Canker In Cities, And No Purity Is Rarer There Than The Purity Of Delight.

He Who Brings Ridicule To Bear Against Truth Finds In His Hand A Blade Without A Hilt. The Most Sparkling And Pointed Flame Of Wit Flickers And Expires Against The Incombustible Walls Of Her Sanctuary.

Fame, They Tell You, Is Air; But Without Air There Is No Life For Any; Without Fame There Is None For The Best.

He Who First Praises A Book Becomingly Is Next In Merit To The Author.