Idleness is the rust of the soûl

989. — ^HappinesB is a bail after which we run as long as it roUs, and which we push on with our feet when it stops.

990. — Wit sees ten roads and does not know which to take ; common sensé sees but one and follows it. (103)

991. — Theorv is imperfect without expérience, and expérience without theory is but a misérable routine.

992. — Violence is the right arm, and cunning the left arm of politics.

993. — To look for happiness without virtue is to look for a shadow on the sands of the désert.

994. — The broad sword of violence breaks when it etrikes against the sword of justice.