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"History is a cyclic poem written by Time upon the memories of man."

"Winter is come and gone, But grief returns with the revolving year."

"A man, to be greatly good, must magine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and in many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own."

"Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odors, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken."

"Death is a veil which those who live call life, Sleep and it is lifted."

"We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts, have their root in Greece."

"When the souls rise up in glory, yours shall not be shunned nor sunderered, but shall be the prize of the gods' gardens. Even your darkness shall be treasured then, and all your pain made holy."

"For men who had easily endured hardship, danger and difficult uncertainty, leisure and riches, though in some ways desirable, proved burdensome and a source of grief."

"The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding."

"Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man; it has become the amusement and delight of the few."

"If confusion is the first step to knowledge, I must be a genius."

"The agenda of the roadblock is the philosophy of the stop sign."