The heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old! The dead but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.

Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? It doth; but actions are our epochs: mine Have made my days and nights imperishable Endless, and all alike, as san…

So, we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.

But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar.

To understand a man, you must know his memories. The same is true of a nation.

A people's memory is history. A people without a history can grow neither wiser nor better.

They [the Greeks] were the first Westerners; the spirit of the West, the modern spirit, is a Greek discovery and the place of the Greeks is in the modern world.