Melancholy Is The Pleasure Of

Those Who Always Pray Are Necessary To Those Who Never Pray.

If It Were (is It Not) Outrageous That Society Should Treat With Such Rigid Precision Those Of Its Members Who Were Most Poorly Endowed In The Distribution Or Wealth That Chance Had Made, And Who Were, Therefore, Most Worthy Of Indulgence.

Great Blunders Are Often Made, Like Large Ropes, Of A Multitude Of Fibres.

Love Is A Fault; So Be It.

To Rove About, Musing, That Is To Say Loitering, Is, For A Philosopher, A Good Way Of Spending Time.