We Live As We Dream - Alone.

There Is A Taint Of Death, A Flavour Of Mortality In Lies.

A Certain Simplicity Of Thought Is Common To Serene Souls At Both Ends Of The Social Scale.

Fiction Is History, Human History, Or It Is Nothing.

The Mind Of Man Is Capable Of Anything.

There Is No Credulity So Eager And Blind As The Credulity Of Covetousness, Which, In Its Universal Extent, Measures The Moral Misery And The Intellectual Destitution Of Mankind.