Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps; And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself. Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids; Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.

In youth, what disappointments of our own making: in age, what disappointments from the nature of things.

The future... seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done

We bleed, we tremble; we forget, we smile - The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry

Who combats with a brother, wounds himself.

When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.

Leisure is pain; take off our chariot wheels; how heavily we drag the load of life!