There are people who exist in this world not like entities but like the speckles or spots on something.

Steeds, steeds, what steeds! Has the whirlwind a home in your manes?

Countless as the sands of sea are human passions, and not all of them are alike, and all of them, base and noble alike, are at first obedient to man and only later on become his terrible masters.

There are people who exist in this world not like entities but like the speckles or spots on something.

There exists a kind of laughter which is worthy to be ranked with the higher lyric emotions and is infinitely different from the twitching of a mean merrymaker.

They're thinking of turning the peasant into an educated man. Why, first of all they should make him a good and prosperous farmer and then he'll learn all that is necessary for him to know.

But wise is the man who disdains no character, but with searching glance explores him to the root and cause of all.