They hate whom they fear.
No one regards what is before his feet; we all gaze at the stars.
O friend unseen, unborn, unknown, Student of our sweet English tongue, I never indulge in poetics - Unless I am down with rheumatics.
He who has two languages has two souls.
The ape, vilest of beasts, how like to us.
How can life be worth living, if devoid Of the calm trust reposed by friend in friend? What sweeter joy than in the kindred soul, Whose converse differs not from self-communion?