Wherever the Turkish hoof trods, no grass grows.
He was fond of books, for they are cool and sure friends
Let us leave to the brain what belongs to it, and agree that the work of the men of genius is of the superhuman, the offspring of man.
What is fright by night is curiosity by day.
You preserve your shame but you kill your glory.
What matters deafness of the ear, when the mind hears? The one true deafness, the incurable deafness, is that of the mind.