The Cynic Who Twitted Aristippus By Observing

Many Books Owe Their Success To The Good Memories Of Their Authors And The Bad Memories Of Their Readers.

Some Authors Write Nonsense In A Clear Style, And Others Sense In An Obscure One; Some Can Reason Without Being Able To Persuade, Others Can Persuade Without Being Able To Reason; Some Dive So Deep That They Descend Into Darkness, And Others Soar So High That They Give Us No Light; And Some, In A Vain Attempt To Be Cutting And Dry, Give Us Only That Which Is Cut And Dried. We Should Labor, Therefore, To Treat With Ease Of Things That Are Difficult; With Familiarity, Of Things That Are Novel; And With Perspicuity, Of Things That Are Profound.

That Extremes Beget Extremes Is An Apothegm Built On The Most Profound Observation Of The Human Mind.

That Is Fine Benevolence, Finely Executed, Which, Like The Nile, Comes From Hidden Sources.

A Harmless Hilarity And A Buoyant Cheerfulness Are Not Infrequent Concomitants Of Genius; And We Are Never More Deceived Than When We Mistake Gravity For Greatness, Solemnity For Science, And Pomposity For Erudition.