Depth (n.) is hard to stay loyal to: whoever understands a thing to its depths rarely remains faithful to it — in the depths there is always much unpleasant to see.
Depth (n.) keeps deep men calm before the unexpected — the impression is shallow at first and deepens later — but they lose their presence of mind at what they long awaited.
Depth (n.) makes thinkers seem like comedians in company, because to be understood they must first simulate a surface.
Depth (n.) is easily confused by the public with fishing in troubled waters.
Depth (n.) means taking down whatever is cast into us — the age's filth, boys' gewgaws, wanderers' miseries — for we do not forget, and becoming bright again.
Depth (n.) is what they claim who sit all day fishing in swamps; but whoever fishes where there are no fish cannot even be called superficial.