All Great Men Come Out Of The

Every Man Is A Divinity In Disguise, A God Playing The Fool.

A Fly Is As Untamable As A Hyena.

For Everything You Gain, You Lose Something.

One More Royal Trait Properly Belongs To The Poet. I Mean His Cheerfulness, Without Which No Man Can Be A Poet,--for Beauty Is His Aim. He Loves Virtue, Not For Its Obligation, But For Its Grace; He Delights In The World, In Man, In Woman, For The Lovely Light That Sparkles From Them. Beauty, The Spirit Of Joy And Hilarity, He Sheds Over The Universe.

Men Achieve A Certain Greatness Unawares When Working To Another Aim.