If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.

There's music in the sighing of a reed; There's music in the gushing of a rill; There's music in all things, if men had ears; The earth is but the music of the spheres.

There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

If from society we learn to live, solitude should teach us how to die.

All human history attests That happiness for man, - the hungry sinner! - Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner. ~Lord Byron, Don Juan, Canto XIII, stanza 99

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away.