I have never observed other effects of whipping than to render boys more cowardly, or more willfully obstinate.

What kind of truth is this which is true on one side of a mountain and false on the other?

Certainly, if he still has himself, a man of understanding has lost nothing.

A man must not always tell all, for that be folly; but what a man says should be what he thinks.

No man is a hero to his own valet.

We are never present with, but always beyond ourselves; fear, desire, hope, still push us on toward the future.

What kind of truth is it which has these mountains as its boundary and is a lie beyond them?