He had slipped, climbed, rolled, searched, walked, persevered, that is all. Such is the secret of all triumphs.

Despots play their part in the works of thinkers. Fettered words are terrible words. The writer doubles and trebles the power of his writing when a ruler imposes silence on the people. Something emerges from that enforced silence, a mysterious fullness which filters through and becomes steely in the thought.

It is most pleasant to commit a just action which is disagreeable to someone whom one does not like.

The author creates a book and the people accept or not accept it. The creator of a book is an author and the creator of it`s fate are people.

There is but one way of refusing To-morrow, that is to die.

That men saw his mask, but the bishop saw his face. That men saw his life, but the bishop saw his conscience.

The malicious have a dark happiness.