It Is Good To Collect Things, But

To Die For An Idea Is To Set A Rather High Price Upon Conjecture.

For A Man’s Life Would Become Intolerable, If He Knew What Was Going To Happen To Him. He Would Be Made Aware Of Future Evils, And Would Suffer Their Agonies In Advance, While He Would Get No Joy Of Present Blessings Since He Would Know How They Would End. Ignorance Is The Necessary Condition Of Human Happiness, And It Has To Be Admitted That On The Whole Mankind Observes That Condition Well. We Are Almost Entirely Ignorant Of Ourselves; Absolutely Of Others. In Ignorance, We Find Our Bliss; In Illusions, Our Happiness.

Good Angels Are Fallible ... They Sin Every Day And Fall From Heaven Like Flies.

The Duty Of Literature Is To Note What Counts, And To Light Up What Is Suited To The Light. If It Ceases To Choose And To Love, It Becomes Like A Woman Who Gives Herself Without Preference.

Silence Is The Wit Of Fools.