For the world, I count it not an inn, but an hospital ; and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is myself; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on; for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round... Italy: a poem. With historical and classical notes - Страница 378 по John Edmund Reade - 1838 Пълен достъп -
|