A Man Who Can Be

We Can Only Write Well About Our Sins Because It Is Too Difficult To Recall A Virtuous Act Or Even Whether It Was The Result Of Good Or Evil Motives.

I Would Rather Take Hellebore Than Spend A Conversation With A Good, Little Man.

So Much Of Our Lives Is Given Over To The Consideration Of Our Imperfections That There Is No Time To Improve Our Imaginary Virtues. The Truth Is We Only Perfect Our Vices, And Man Is A Worse Creature When He Dies Than He Was When He Was Born.

It Takes A Long Time To Understand Nothing.

Who Has Enough Credit In This World To Pay For His Mistakes?