One Is Never As Happy Or As

To Eat Is A Necessity, But To Eat Intelligently Is An Art.

It Is Almost Always A Fault Of One Who Loves Not To Realize When He Ceases To Be Loved.

The Sicknesses Of The Soul Have Their Ups And Downs Like Those Of The Body; What We Take To Be A Cure Is Most Often Merely A Respite Or Change Of Disease.

The Constancy Of The Wise Is Only The Art Of Keeping Disquietude To One's Self.

We Are Never So Happy, Nor So Unhappy, As We Suppose Ourselves To Be.