Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.

Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.

Local color has a fatal tendency to remain local; but it is also true that the universal often borders on the void

Between the villages of Aubiere and Romagnat in the ancient Province of Auvergne there is an old road that comes suddenly over the top of a high hill. To stand south of this ridge looking up at the highway flowing over the skyline is to receive one of those irrefutable impressions from landscape which requires more than a philosopher to explain. In this case it is undoubtedly, for some reason, one of exalted expectation.

Each new generation is a fresh invasion of savages.

Religions change; beer and wine remain.

Here the Frenchman, Spaniard, and Englishman all passed, leaving each his legend; and a brilliant and more or less feudal civilization with its aristocracy and slaves has departed with the economic system upon which it rested.