Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.

One certainly has a soul; but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.

This is to be along; this, this is solitude!

He makes a solitude, and calls it - peace!

We are all the fools of time and terror: Days Steal on us and steal from us; yet we live, Loathing our life, and dreading still to die.

It would be difficult, perhaps, to find the annals of a nation less stained with crimes than those of the Armenians, whose virtues have been those of peace, and their vices those of compulsion. But whatever may have been their destiny and it has been bitter whatever it may be in future, their country must ever be one of the most interesting on the globe.

My native land, good night!