But Where Are The Snows Of Last

How Comes It That You Curse, Frere Jean? It's Only, Said The Monk, In Order To Embellish My Language. They Are The Colors Of Ciceronian Rhetoric.

It Is My Feeling That Time Ripens All Things; With Time All Things Are Revealed; Time Is The Father Of Truth.

Oh Thrice And Four Times Happy... Those Who Plant Cabbages.

He Who Has Not An Adventure Has Not Horse Or Mule, So Says Solomon.--who Is Too Adventurous, Said Echephron,--loses Horse And Mule.

I Recognize In [my Readers] A Specific Form And Individual Property, Which Our Predecessors Called Pantagruelism, By Means Of Which They Never Take Anything The Wrong Way That They Know To Stem From Good, Honest And Loyal Hearts.