A Man Who Means To

All Great Expression, Which On A Superficial Survey Seems So Easy As Well As So Simple, Furnishes After A While, To The Faithful Observer, Its Own Standard By Which To Appreciate It.

It Seems That It Is Madder Never To Abandon One's Self Than Often To Be Infatuated; Better To Be Wounded, A Captive And A Slave, Than Always To Walk In Armor.

Who Can Ever Be Alone For A Moment In Italy? Every Stone Has A Voice, Every Grain Of Dust Seems Instinct With Spirit From The Past, Every Step Recalls Some Line, Some Legend Of Long-neglected Lore.

Man Is Not Made For Society, But Society Is Made For Man. No Institution Can Be Good Which Does Not Tend To Improve The Individual.

The Life Of The Soul Is Incalculable.