Books Delight To The Very

Cicero Called Aristotle A River Of Flowing Gold, And Said Of Plato's Dialogues, That If Jupiter Were To Speak, It Would Be In Language Like Theirs.

If Nature Be Not Improved By Instruction, It Is Blind; If Instruction Be Not Assisted By Nature, It Is Maimed; And If Exercise Fail Of The Assistance Of Both, It Is Imperfect.

The Measure Of A Man's Life Is The Well Spending Of It, And Not The Length.

If You Light Upon An Impertinent Talker, That Sticks To You Like A Bur, To The Disappointment Of Your Important Occasions, Deal Freely With Him, Break Off The Discourse, And Pursue Your Business.

Not By Lamentations And Mournful Chants Ought We To Celebrate The Funeral Of A Good Man, But By Hymns; For, Ion Ceasing To Be Numbered With Mortals, He Enters Upon The Heritage Of A Diviner Life. Since He Is Gone Where He Feels No Pain, Let Us Not Indulge In Too Much Grief. The Soul Is Incapable Of Death. And He, Like A Bird Not Long Enough In His Cage To Become Attached To It, Is Free To Fly Away To A Purer Air. . . . Since We Cherish A Trust Like This, Let Our Outward Actions Be In Accord With It, And Let Us Keep Our Hearts Pure And Our Minds Calm.