To Learn To Read Is To Light

Table Talk And Lovers' Talk Equally Elude The Grasp; Lovers' Talk Is Clouds, Table Talk Is Smoke.

A Mother's Arms Are Made Of Tenderness And Children Sleep Soundly In Them.

Smallness In A Great Man Seems Smaller By Its Disproportion With All The Rest.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.

Death Belongs To God Alone; By What Right Do Men Touch That Unknown Thing?