Sublime

The name of the strong man of Old Scripture had descended to the chief functionary who worked it; but, so armed, he was stronger than his namesake, and blinder, and tore away the gates of God's own Temple every day.

Edgar Allan Poe’s short story The Man of the Crowd.

Society never made the preposterous demand that a man should think as much about his own qualifications for making a charming girl happy as he thinks of hers for making himself happy.

He had been a macaroni of the eighteenth century,

only vestiges left in Mr L. Prosser of his mighty ancestry were a pronounced stoutness about the tum and a predilection for little fur hats.

city, is built upon a volcano. Thousands of people go to and fro in the wilderness of bricks and mortar, earning mean wages, professing a mean religion, wearing a mean attire, thousands of women who have never found any expression for their exaltation or their tragedy but to go on working harder and yet harder at dull and automatic employments, at

As to why there are no millionaires, it is a mystery, and best studied among the mysteries of the Middle Ages. By some of the dark ingenuities of that age of priestcraft a curious thing was discovered–that if you kill every usurer, every forestaller, every adulterater, every user of false weights, every fixer of false boundaries, every land-thief,

Sir Christopher Clitherow

C'est entre sa quarantième et sa cinquantième année qu'Érasme de Rotterdam atteint le zénith de sa gloire : depuis des siècles l'Europe n'a pas connu de nom plus illustre. Ni celui de Dürer, ni celui de Raphaël, de Léonard de Vinci, de Paracelse, de Michel-Ange, ou de n'importe quel autre de ses contemporains n'est prononcé à cette époque avec auta