The Society Of Women Is

Mathematicians Are Like Frenchmen: Whatever You Say To Them They Translate Into Their Own Language And Forthwith It Is Something Entirely Different.

Superstition Is The Poetry Of Life. It Is Inherent In Man's Nature; And When We Think It Is Wholly Eradicated, It Takes Refuge In The Strangest Holes And Corners, Whence It Peeps Out All At Once, As Soon As It Can Do It With Safety.

As Beauteous Is The World, And Many A Joy Floats Through Its Wide Dominion. But, Alas, When We Would Seize The Winged Good, It Flies.

What Sort Of Faults May We Retain, Nay, Even Cherish In Ourselves? Those Faults Which Are Rather Pleasant Than Offensive To Others.

In All Things, To Serve From The Lowest Station Upwards Is Necessary. To Restrict Yourself To A Trade Is Best. For The Narrow Mind, Whatever He Attempts Is Still A Trade; For The Higher, An Art; And The Highest In Doing One Thing Does All, Or, To Speak Less Paradoxically, In The One Thing Which He Does Rightly He Sees The Likeness Of All That Is Done Rightly.