At Heart I Am A Warrior.

Subordination To Morality Can Be Slavish Or Vain Or Self- Interested Or Resigned Or Gloomily Enthusiastic Or Thoughtless Or An Act Of Despair, Just As Subordination To A Prince Can Be: In Itself It Is Nothing Moral.

A Refined Soul Is Distressed To Know That Someone Owes It Thanks; A Crude Soul, To Know That It Owes Someone Thanks.

Out Of Damp And Gloomy Days, Out Of Solitude, Out Of Loveless Words Directed At Us, Conclusions Grow Up In Us Like Fungus: One Morning They Are There, We Know Not How, And They Gaze Upon Us, Morose And Gray. Woe To The Thinker Who Is Not The Gardener But Only The Soil Of The Plants That Grow In Him.

No Honey Is Sweeter Than That Of Knowledge.

When We Talk In Company We Lose Our Unique Tone Of Voice, And This Leads Us To Make Statements Which In No Way Correspond To Our Real Thoughts.