Many Men Nourish A Pride

Love Is Like Some Fresh Spring, First A Stream And Then A River, Changing Its Aspect And Its Nature As It Flows To Plunge Itself In Some Boundless Ocean, Where Restricted Natures Only Find Monotony, But Where Great Souls Are Engulfed In Endless Contemplation.

Thought Is The Only Treasure That God Sets Outside All Power And Keeps To Serve As A Secret Link Among The Unhappy.

All Men Can Bear A Familiar, Definite Misfortune Better Than The Cruel Alternations Of A Fate Which, From One Moment To Another, Brings Excessive Joy Or Sorrow.

Do You Know How A Man Makes His Way Here? By Brilliant Genius Or By Skilful Corruption. You Must Either Cut Your Way Through These Masses Of Men Like A Cannon Ball, Or Steal Among Them Like A Plague.

Journalism Is A Giant Catapult Set In Motion By Pigmy Hatreds.