What makes a regiment of soldiers a more noble object of view than the same mass of mob? Their arms their dresses their banners and the art and artificial symmetry of their position and movements.
The lapse of ages changes all things - time, language, the earth, the bounds of the sea, the stars of the sky, and every thing "about around and underneath" man, except man himself.
Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare, And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair.
Absence - that common cure of love.
For truth is always strange, stranger than fiction.
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The art of living… is neither careless drifting on the one hand, nor fearful clinging to the past on the other. It consists in being sensitive to each moment, in regarding it as utterly new and unique, in having the mind open and wholly receptive.