There is nothing perfectly secure but poverty.
The air is full of farewells to the dying. And mournings for the dead.
Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest of all the arts.
To say the least, a town life makes one more tolerant and liberal in one's judgment of others.
The shadows of the mind are like those of the body. In the morning of life they all lie behind us; at noon we trample them under foot; and in the evening they stretch long, broad, and deepening before us.
.... Anon from the castle walls The crescent banner falls, And the crowd beholds instead, Like a portent in the sky, Iskander's banner fly, The Black Eagle with double head. And shouts ascend on high .....'' Long live Scanderbeg.