War is not man's great and terrible disease; war is a symptom, a result. The real disease is the virus of national sovereignty.

The poor foreigner, more dead than alive, answered that he was an Italian charlatan, who had practised with some reputation in Padua […].

And is there any end to wisdom that we may hope to reach it? Rather, the more we learn, shall we not thereby be able only to better compass out our ignorance? Did we live ten thousand years could we hope to solve the secrets of the suns, and of the space beyond the suns, and of the Hand that hung them in the heavens?

Some things I'm prepared to persevere with but my patience has an elastic limit and with calabrese it snapped.