Error is a hardy plant; it flourishes in every soil.

Yet is beauty the pleasing trickery that cheateth half the world.

Mind is a kingdom to the man who gathereth his pleasure from ideas.

He who commits a wrong will himself inevitably see the writing on the wall, though the world may not count him guilty.

Many a beggar at the crossway, or gray-haired shepherd on the plain, hath more of the end of all wealth than hundreds who multiply the means.

The mines of knowledge are often laid bare by the hazel-wand of chance.

Speech is the golden harvest that followeth the flowering of thought.