'Tis a vivid and strong tincture which, when the soul has once thoroughly imbibed it, will not out but with the piece.

And, therefore, to make a right judgment of a man, we are long and very observingly to follow his trace: if constancy does not there stand firm upon her own proper base, "Cui vivendi via considerata atque provisa est," ["If the way of his life is thoroughly considered and traced out." -- Cicero, Paradox, v.

1.] if the variety of occurrences makes him alter his pace (his path, I mean, for the pace may be faster or slower) let him go; such an one runs before the wind, "Avau le dent," as the motto of our Talebot has it.
'Tis no wonder, says one of the ancients, that chance has so great a dominion over us, since it is by chance we live.

It is not possible for any one who has not designed his life for some certain end, it is impossible for any one to arrange the pieces, who has not the whole form already contrived in his imagination.

Of what use are colours to him that knows not what he is to paint?
No one lays down a certain design for his life, and we only deliberate thereof by pieces.