In his imagination the pages were printed not with their own paragraphs only, but with all that he himself had brought to them: it seemed as though h… - Mary Renault

Then an unjust democracy must be worse than an unjust oligarchy, mustn’t it?

"His mouth felt cold to mine ; he neither opened his eyes, nor spoke, nor moved. I said in my heart, "Too late I am here within your cloak, I who never of my own will would have denied you anything. Time and death and change are unforgiving, and love lost in the time of youth never returns again.

He sees himself in his lover as if in a mirror, not knowing whom he sees, And when they are together, he too is released from pain, and when apart, he longs as he himself is longed for; for reflected in his heart is love's image, which is love's answer. But he calls it, and believes it, not love but friendship…