Commonplace people dislike tragedy because they dare not suffer and cannot exult.

Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth

The days that make us happy make us wise

Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.

I hold that when a person dies / His soul returns again to earth; / Arrayed in some new flesh disguise / Another mother gives him birth / With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.

Humans consist of body, mind and imagination. Our bodies are faulty, our minds untrustworthy, but our imagination has made us remarkable.

People who leave their own time out of their work cannot be surprised if their time fails to find them interesting.