Methinks i am a prophet new inspired and thus, expiring, do foretell of him: his rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, for violent fires soon burn out themselves; small show'rs last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; with eager feeding doth choke the feeder; light vanity, insatiate cormorant, consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
Vanity is really the least bad and most pardonable sort. the vain person wants praise, applause, admiration too much and is always angling for it. it is a fault, but a childlike and even (in an odd way) a humble fault. it shows that you are not yet completely contented with your own admiration. you value other people enough to want them to look at you. you are in fact still human.
And could i look upon her without compassion, seeing her punishment in the ruin she was, in her profound unfitness for this earth on which she was placed, in the vanity of sorrow which had become a master mania, like the vanity of penitence, the vanity of remorse, the vanity of unworthiness, and other monstrous vanities that have been curses in this world?
It was this feminine conspiracy which made southern society so pleasant. Women knew that a land where men were contented, uncontradicted ans safe in possession of unpunctured vanity was likely to be a very pleasant place for women to live. So, from the cradle to the grave, women strove to make men pleased with themselves, and the satisfied men repaid lavishly with gallantry and adoration. In fact, men willingly gave ladies everything in the world except credit for having intelligence.