We Pick Our Own Sorrows

Knowledge Is The Treasure Of The Mind, But Discretion Is The Key To It, Without Which It Is Useless. The Practical Part Of Wisdom Is The Best.

We Pick Our Own Sorrows Out Of The Joys Of Other Men, And From Their Sorrows Likewise We Derive Our Joys.

Discontent Is Like Ink Poured Into Water, Which Fills The Whole Fountain Full Of Blackness.

That Man Is But Of The Lower Part Of The World That Is Not Brought Up To Business And Affairs.

Praise Has Different Effects, According To The Mind It Meets With; It Makes A Wise Man Modest, But A Fool More Arrogant, Turning His Weak Brain Giddy.