I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of these elements.

Death, like a host, comes smiling to the door; Smiling, he greets us, on that tranquil shore Where neither piping bird nor peeping dawn Disturbs the eternal sleep, But in the stillness far withdrawn Our dreamless rest for evermore we keep.

There is no progress whatever. Everything is just the same as it was thousands, and tens of thousands, of years ago. The outward form changes. The essence does not change.

Everyday life is a stimulating mixture of order and haphazardry. The sun rises and sets on schedule but the wind bloweth where it listeth.

It is better to be a fool than to be dead.

Am I no a bonny fighter?

A child should always say what's true, And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at table: At least as far as he is able.