It Was Jolly In The

But When I Was Twelve Years Old I Caught My First Strong Glimpse Of One Of The Fundamental Forces Of Existence, Whose Votary I Was Destined To Be For Life - Namely, Beauty.

Those [christians] Had Left To Love On Earth Were Then: Brothers And Sisters In Hatred, Whom They Called Then: Brothers And Sisters In Love.

My First Experiences Of Academic Friendship Made Me Smile In After Years When I Looked Back On Them. But My Circle Of Acquaintances Had Gradually Grown So Large That It Was Only Natural New Friendships Should Grow Out Of It.

The Historian Is Looked Upon As Objective When He Measures The Past By The Popular Opinions Of His Own Time, As Subjective When He Does Not Take These Opinions For Models. That Man Is Thought Best Fitted To Depict A Period Of The Past, Who Is Not In The Least Affected By That Period. But Only He Who Has A Share In Building Up The Future Can Grasp What The Past Has Been, And Only When Transformed Into A Work Of Art Can History Arouse Or Even Sustain Instincts.

My Father, Though, Could Run Very Much Faster. It Was Impossible To Compete With Him On The Grass. But It Was Astonishing How Slow Old People Were. Some Of Them Could Not Run Up A Hill And Called It Trying To Climb Stairs.