It Is To Those Who Have The

He Who Complains, Sins.

While I Am Busy With Little Things, I Am Not Required To Do Greater Things.

I Recommend To You Holy Simplicity.

Many Great Persons Have Been Of Opinion That Love Is No Other Thing Than Complacency Itself, In Which They Have Had Much Appearance Of Reason. For Not Only Does The Movement Of Love Take Its Origin From The Complacency Which The Heart Feels At The First Approach Of Good, And Find Its End In A Second Complacency Which Returns To The Heart By Union With The Thing Beloved--but Further, It Depends For Its Preservation On This Complacency, And Can Only Subsist Through It As Through Its Mother And Nurse; So That As Soon As The Complacency Ceases, Love Ceases.

It Is Better To Remain Silent Than To Speak The Truth Ill-humoredly, And Spoil An Excellent Dish By Covering It With Bad Sauce.