When Translating One Must Proceed

We Lay Aside Letters Never To Read Them Again, And At Last We Destroy Them Out Discretion, And So Disappears The Most Immediate Breath Of Life, Irrecoverably For Ourselves And For Others.

It Is A Great Pleasure To Transport One's-self Into The Spirit Of The Times; To See How A Wise Man Has Thought Before Us, And To What A Glorious Height We Have At Last Carried It.

Never Let A Day Pass Without Looking At Some Perfect Work Of Art, Hearing Some Great Piece Of Music And Reading, In Part, Some Great Book.

Even Dirt Glitters When The Sun Is Shining Upon It

What Is The Destiny Of Man, But To Fill Up The Measure Of His Sufferings, And To Drink His Allotted Cup Of Bitterness?