The stream of time sweeps away errors, and leaves the truth for the inheritance of humanity.

Dostoevsky preaches the morality of the pariah, the morality of the slave.

I was not given to looking at life in a rosy light.

Poor is the power of the lead that becomes bullets compared to the power of the hot metal that becomes types.

I was not afraid of what I did not like. To overcome dislike of a thing often satisfied one's feeling of honour.

My first experiences of academic friendship made me smile in after years when I looked back on them. But my circle of acquaintances had gradually grown so large that it was only natural new friendships should grow out of it.

It gradually dawned upon me that there was no one more difficult to please than my mother.