What a blessing it is to love books as I love them;- to be able to converse with the dead, and to live amidst the unreal!

Then none was for a party;Then all were for the state;Then the great man helped the poor,And the poor man loved the great;Then lands were fairly proportioned;Then spoils were fairly sold;The Romans were like brothersIn the brave days of old.

Thus spake brave Horatius, the captain of the gate. To all men upon this Earth, death cometh soon or late. And what better way to die, than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of ones' fathers, and the temples of ones' G/Ds? For the tender mother, who dandled him to rest. And for the wife, who nurses his baby at her breast. And for the holy maidens, who feed the eternal flame. To save them from false sextus, that wrought the deed of shame. Lay down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may. I, with two more at either side, shall hold the foe in play. In Yon straight path a thousand may well be stop by three. Now who will stand on either hand and hold the bridge with me?

Pour, varlet, pour the waterThe water steaming hot!A spoonful for each man of usAnother for the pot!

It seems that the creative faculty and the critical faculty cannot exist together in their highest perfection.

His imagination resembled the wings of an ostrich. It enabled him to run though not to soar.

The highest intellects like the tops of mountains are the first to catch and to reflect the dawn.

The object of oratory alone is not truth but persuasion.