A glass of good wine is a gracious creature, and reconciles poor mortality to itself and that is what few things can do.

What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?

Within that awful volume lies The mystery of mysteries!

And better had they ne'er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.

The race of mankind would perish did they cease to aid each other. We cannot exist without mutual help. All therefore that need aid have a right to ask it from their fellow-men; and no one who has the power of granting can refuse it without guilt.

In the name of God!" said Gurth, "how came they prisoners? and to whom?" "Our master was too ready to fight," said the Jester, "and Athelstane was not ready enough, and no other person was ready at all.

Certainly," quoth Athelstane, "women are the least to be trusted of all animals, monks and abbots excepted.