There Would Not Be So

Economy Is For The Poor; The Rich May Dispense With It.

There Is No Sense Of Weariness Like That Which Closes In A Day Of Eager And Unintermittent Pursuit Of Pleasure. The Apple Is Eaten, But "the Core Sticks In The Throat." Expectation Has Then Given Way To Ennui, Appetite To Satiety.

The Passions Are Like Fire, Useful In A Thousand Ways And Dangerous Only In One, Through Their Excess.

The Lively And Mercurial Are As Open Books, With The Leaves Turned Down At The Notable Passages. Their Souls Sit At The Windows Of Their Eyes, Seeing And To Be Seen.

An Ambition To Excel In Petty Things Obstructs The Progress To Nobler Aims.