Character Calls Forth Character.

The One Who Acts Is Always Without Conscience; Nobody Has A Conscience But The Contemplative Person.

The Flowers Of Life Are But Visionary. How Many Pass Away And Leave No Trace Behind! How Few Yield Any Fruit,--and The Fruit Itself, How Rarely Does It Ripen! And Yet There Are Flowers Enough; And Is It Not Strange, My Friend, That We Should Suffer The Little That Does Really Ripen To Rot, Decay, And Perish Unenjoyed?

Few Are Open To Conviction, But The Majority Of Men Are Open To Persuasion

Blood Is A Very Special Juice.

Against Great Advantages In Another, There Are No Means Of Defending Ourselves Except Love.