Speech happens to not be his language.
Who understands much, forgives much.
O memory, thou bitter sweet,--both a joy and a scourge!
The more we know the better we forgive. Whoever feels deeply, feels for all who live.
Happy the land where the writers are sad, the merchants satisfied, the rich melancholic, and the populace content.
Why shouldn't man be as angry about not having always been alive as about having to stop being alive?