"Thank you," said the judgment, "you save my face."
"Who art thou that weepest?"
"Man."
"Nay, thou art Egotism. I am the Scheme of the Universe. Study me and learn that nothing matters."
"Then how does it matter that I weep?"
A slight is less easily forgiven than an injury, because it implies something of contempt, indifference, an overlooking of our importance; whereas an injury presupposes some degree of consideration. "The black-guards!" said a traveler whom Sicilian brigands had released without ransom; "did they think me a person of no consequence?"
The people's plaudits are unheard in hell.
Generosity to a fallen foe is a virtue that takes no chances.
If there was a world before this we must all have died impenitent.
We are what we laugh at. The stupid person is a poor joke, the clever, a good one.