There are a thousand unnoticed openings, continued my father, which let a penetrating eye at once into a man's soul; and I maintain it, added he, tha… - Laurence Sterne

Time wastes too fast: every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen; the days and hours of it, more precious, my dear Jenny! than the rubies about they neck, are flying over our heads light like clouds of a windy day, never to return more — every thing presses on — whilst thou art twisting that lock, — see! it grows grey; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which we are shortly to make. — — Heaven have mercy on us both!

I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry, 'Tis all barren!

Y, en vuestro propio caso, recordad bien y meditad sobre esta sencilla distinción (no hacerla como es debido ha sido la perdición de miles): — que vuestra conciencia no es ley. —