The pen is mightier than the sword. >>
No author ever drew a character consistent to human nature, but he was >>
Remorse is the echo of a lost virtue. >>
Here, with whitened hair, desires failing, strength ebbing out of him, >>
As one grows older, one becomes wiser and more foolish. >>
You must not pity me because my sixtieth year finds me still astonishe >>
It is not by the gray of the hair that one knows the age of the heart.