And if a man reads very hard, as the old anecdote reminds us, he will have little time for thought.
His past was fairly blameless; few men could read the rolls of their life with less apprehension; yet he was humbled to the dust by the many ill things he had done, and raised up again into sober and fearful gratitude by the many he had come so near to doing, yet avoided.
Is there anything in life so disenchanting as achievement?
Vanity dies hard; in some obstinate cases it outlives the man.
Every man has a sane spot somewhere.
Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm.