He Did Not Study God;

And If It Happened To Be A Christmas-night When The Great Bell Seemed To Rattle In Its Throat As It Called The Faithful To The Midnight Mass, There Was Such An Indescribable Air Of Life Spread Over The Sombre Facade That The Great Door-way Looked As If It Were Swallowing The Entire Crowd, And The Rose-window Staring At Them.

He Who Opens A School Door, Closes A Prison.

I Repeat, Whether We Be Italians Or Frenchmen, Misery Concerns Us All.

Wherever The Turkish Hoof Trods, No Grass Grows.

...though We Chisel Away As Best We Can At The Mysterious Block From Which Our Life Is Made, The Black Vein Of Destiny Continually Reappears.