Jealous People Poison Their Own

The Land Of Literature Is A Fairy Land To Those Who View It At A Distance, But, Like All Other Landscapes, The Charm Fades On A Nearer Approach, And The Thorns And Briars Become Visible.

Language Gradually Varies, And With It Fade Away The Writings Of Authors Who Have Flourished Their Allotted Time; Otherwise, The Creative Powers Of Genius Would Overstock The World, And The Mind Would Be Completely Bewildered In The Endless Mazes Of Literature.

Villainy Wears Many Masks; None So Dangerous As The Mask Of Virtue.

Those Who Are Well Assured Of Their Own Standing Are Least Apt To Trespass On That Of Others, Whereas Nothing Is So Offensive As The Aspirings Of Vulgarity Which Thinks To Elevate Itself By Humiliating Its Neighbor.

Nothing Impresses The Mind With A Deeper Feeling Of Loneliness Than To Tread The Silent And Deserted Scene Of Former Throng And Pageant.