Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.
If I am fool, it is, at least, a doubting one; and I envy no one the certainty of his self-approved wisdom.
Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty.
There is pleasure in the pathless woods.
Oh Rome! My country! City of the soul!
Time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.