As a snow-drift is formed where there is a lull in the wind, so, one would say, where there is a lull of truth, an institution springs up.

Faint heart never won true friend. O my friend, may it come to pass, once, that when you are my friend I may be yours.

No people ever lived by cursing their fathers, however great a curse their fathers might have been to them.

Fame itself is but an epitaph; as late, as false, as true.

They can do without architecture who have no olives nor wines in the cellar.

When I would re-create myself, I seek the darkest wood, the thickest and most interminable and to the citizen, most dismal, swamp. I enter as a sacred place, a Sanctum sanctorum. There is the strength, the marrow, of Nature.

The hounding of a dog pursuing a fox or other animal in the horizon may have first suggested the notes of the hunting-horn to alternate with and relieve the lungs of the dog. This natural bugle long resounded in the woods of the ancient world before the horn was invented.