I Confess That I Have

They Who Derive Their Worth From Their Ancestors Resemble Potatoes, The Most Valuable Part Of Which Is Underground.

An Artist Must Learn To Be Nourished By His Passions And By His Despairs.

The Human Understanding Is Moved By Those Things Most Which Strike And Enter The Mind Simultaneously And Suddenly, And So Fill The Imagination; And Then It Feigns And Supposes All Other Things To Be Somehow, Though It Cannot See How, Similar To Those Few Things By Which It Is Surrounded.

A Forbidden Writing Is Thought To Be A Certain Spark Of Truth, That Flies Up In The Face Of Them Who Seek To Tread It Out.

Anger Is Certainly A Kind Of Baseness; As It Appears Well In The Weakness Of Those Subjects In Whom It Reigns; Children, Women, Old Folks, Sick Folks. Only Men Must Beware, That They Carry Their Anger Rather With Scorn, Than With Fear; So That They May Seem Rather To Be Above The Injury, Than Below It; Which Is A Thing Easily Done, If A Man Will Give Law To Himself In It.