Man and boy, I have lived ever since I can remember.
The terrors of truth and dart of death To faith alike are vain.
I would prefer not to.
Toil is man's allotment; toil of brain, or toil of hands, or a grief that's more than either, the grief and sin of idleness.
Top-heavy was the ship as a dinnerless student with all Aristotle in his head.
The sea had jeeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul.