Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire - in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?

Still from the fount of joy's delicious springs Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings.

Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.

For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

Armenian is the language to speak with God.

Religion-freedom-vengeance-what you will, A word's enough to raise mankind to kill.