The Breeding We Give Young

None But Great Men Are Capable Of Having Great Flaws.

Perhaps Being Old Is Having Lighted Rooms Inside Your Head, And People In Them, Acting. People You Know, Yet Can't Quite Name.

The Love Of New Acquaintance Comes Not So Much From Being Weary Of What We Had Before, Or From Any Satisfaction There Is In Change, As From The Distaste We Feel In Being Too Little Admired By Those That Know Us Too Well, And The Hope Of Being More Admired By Those That Know Us Less.

Sometimes We Lose Friends For Whose Loss Our Regret Is Greater Than Our Grief, And Others For Whom Our Grief Is Greater Than Our Regret.

The Height Of Cleverness Is To Be Able To Conceal It.