Silence, yes, but what silence! For it is all very fine to keep silence, but one has also to consider the kind of silence one keeps.
Two in distressmake sorrow less.
I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.
Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards.
To-morrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of to-day?
As it is with the love of the body, so with the friendship of the mind, the full is only reached by admittance to the most retired places.