The More We Do, The

The Contemplation Of Truth And Beauty Is The Proper Object For Which We Were Created, Which Calls Forth The Most Intense Desires Of The Soul, And Of Which It Never Tires.

Pride Is Founded Not On The Sense Of Happiness, But On The Sense Of Power.

They Are The Only Honest Hypocrites, Their Life Is A Voluntary Dream, A Studied Madness.

There Is A Heroism In Crime As Well As In Virtue. Vice And Infamy Have Their Altars And Their Religion.

The Love Of Letters Is The Forlorn Hope Of The Man Of Letters. His Ruling Passion Is The Love Of Fame.