I always made an awkward bow. >>
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced -- even a proverb is >>
The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mi >>
In solitude, be a multitude to thyself. Tibullus by all means use some >>
True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors, >>
A man can be himself only so long as he is alone. >>
Though the most beautiful creature were waiting for me at the end of a journey or a walk; though the carpet were of silk, the curtains of the morning clouds; the chairs and sofa stuffed with cygnet's down; the food manna, the wine beyond claret, the window opening on Winander Mere, I should not feel --or rather my happiness would not be so fine, as my solitude is sublime.