The Fates and Furies, as well as the Graces and Sirens, glide with linked hands over life.
Music is the moonlight in the gloomy night of life.
On the church vaulting above was the clock-face of eternity, void of number and serving as its own hand, only one black finger was pointing and the dead wanted to tell the time by it.
How alone everyone is in the vast tomb of the universe!
Fine minds are seldom fine souls.
Courage consists, not in blindly overlooking danger, but in seeing and conquering it.