The soul comes from without into the human body, as into a temporary abode, and it goes out of it anewย it passes into other habitations, for the soul is immortal.
What you are shouts at me so loudly that I can't hear a word you say.
I read your piece on Plato. Holmes, when you strike at a king, you must kill him.
There is no calamity that right words will not begin to redress
Hast thou named all the birds without a gun?
In the right hands, literature is not resorted to as a consolation, and by the broken and decayed, but as a decalogue.