That great dust-heap called 'history'.

Friendship is a word, the very sight of which in print makes the heart warm.

The man who has a library of his own collection is able to contemplate himself objectively, and is justified in believing in his own existence.

Given Pounds and five years, and an ordinary man can in the ordinary course, without any undue haste or putting any pressure upon his taste, surround himself with books, all in his own language, and thence forward have at least one place in the world.

[Milton] calls the university "A stony-hearted step-mother."

That great dust-heap called 'history'.

History is a pageant and not a philosophy.