I Could Not Without Vile

Our Selfishness Is So Robust And Many-clutching That, Well Encouraged, It Easily Devours All Sustenance Away From Our Poor Little Scruples.

[it Is Easier] To Quell Emotion Than To Incur The Consequences Of Venting It.

Where Jack Isn't Safe, Tom's In Danger.

What Moments Of Despair That Life Would Ever Be Made Precious To Me By The Consciousness That I Lived To Some Good Purpose! It Was That Sort Of Despair That Sucked Away The Sap Of Half The Hours Which Might Have Been Filled By Energetic Youthful Activity: And The Same Demon Tries To Get Hold Of Me Again Whenever An Old Work Is Dismissed And A New One Is Being Meditated.

Among All Forms Of Mistake, Prophecy Is The Most Gratuitous.