North and West have always vied for power and territory, but their recent competition as to which one is more insidious of the twohas been more peaceful.

Man lives two lives, woe, were it otherwise! One is seized by death, the other one, his honor, remains.

Science and art, or by the same token, poetry and prose differ from one another like a journey and an excursion. The purpose of the journey is its goal, the purpose of an excursion is the process.

The likeness of the world? A shadow! And world's glory? A dream!

How great seems human progress when we consider where it began, and how insignificant, when we contemplate the goals for which itstrives.

Why I love the ancients so much? Aside from everything else, when I read them, the entire past between them and me unfolds at thesame time. The hearts of how many heroes and poets may have been set on fire by Plutarch's biographies which now inspire me with their own and with borrowed flames!

A woman's passion is not the measure of a man's love.