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.

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

But I did not find any positive inspiration in my studies until I approached my nineteenth year.

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

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

Just about this time, when in imagination I was so great a warrior, I had good use in real life for more strength, as I was no longer taken to school by the nurse, but instead had myself to protect my brother, two years my junior.

Among the delights of Summer were picnics to the woods.