Not a man alive has so much luck that he can play with it.

Not a man alive has so much luck that he can play with it.

We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.

I carry from my mother's womb a fanatic's heart.

Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.

Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.

Books are but waste paper unless we spend in action the wisdom we get from thought - asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in their conversation.