Obtuseness is sometimes a virtue.

Wrong is wrong; no fallacy can hide it, no subterfuge cover it so shrewdly but that the All-Seeing One will discover and punish it.

The personal pronoun "I" should be the coat of arms of some individuals.

Axioms are delightful in theory, but impossible in practice.

The subtle sauce of malice is often indulged in by maidens of uncertain age, over their tea.

Rumor, once started, rushes on like a river, until it mingles with, and is lost in the sea.

That which happens to the soil when it ceases to be cultivated by the social man happens to man himself when he foolishly forsakes society for solitude; the brambles grow up in his desert heart.