To Call A Thing Good

Verily, I Do Not Like Them, The Merciful Who Feel Blessed In Their Pity: They Are Lacking Too Much In Shame. If I Must Pity, At Least I Do Not Want It Known; And If I Do Pity, It Is Preferably From A Distance.

The Familiarity Of Superiors Embitters One, Because It May Not Be Returned.

One Who Dresses In Rags That Have Been Washed Clean Dresses Cleanly To Be Sure, But Raggedly Nonetheless.

People Who Wish To Numb Our Caution In Dealing With Them By Means Of Flattery Are Employing A Dangerous Expedient, Like A Sleeping Draught, Which, If It Does Not Put Us To Sleep, Keeps Us All The More Awake.

Joy Wants The Eternity Of All Things, Wants Deep, Wants Deep Eternity.