If Vices Were Profitable, The

A Man Who Contemplates Revenge Keeps His Wounds Green.

My Praise Shall Be Dedicated To The Mind Itself. The Mind Is The Man, And The Knowledge Is The Mind. A Man Is But What He Knoweth. The Mind Is But An Accident To Knowledge, For Knowledge Is The Double Of That Which Is.

I Like, You May Say, The Glitter And Colour That Comes From The Mouth, And I've Always Hoped In A Sense To Be Able To Paint The Mouth Like Monet Painted A Sunset.

Men Suppose Their Reason Has Command Over Their Words; Still It Happens That Words In Return Exercise Authority On Reason

It Is The Wisdom Of The Crocodiles, That Shed Tears When They Would Devour.