Labor, Wide As The Earth,

Success In Life, In Anything, Depends Upon The Number Of Persons That One Can Make Himself Agreeable To.

So Here Hath Been Dawning Another Blue Day; Think, Wilt Thou Let It Slip Useless Away? Out Of Eternity This New Day Is Born, Into Eternity At Night Will Return.

Egotism Is The Source And Summary Of All Faults And Miseries.

Writing Is A Dreadful Labor, Yet Not So Dreadful As Idleness.

To The Mean Eye All Things Are Trivial, As Certainly As To The Jaundiced They Are Yellow.