Thus we are brought to the third circle of this hell, which, perhaps, will some day find its Dante.
Time is their tyrant: it fails them, it escapes them; they can neither expand it nor cut it short.
Discretion is the best form of calculation.
At all hours the financier is trampling on the living, the attorney on the dead, the pleader on the conscience. Forced to be speaking without a rest, they all substitute words for ideas, phrases for feelings, and their soul becomes a larynx.
And diving deep into the sea of pleasures he brought back more grit than pearls.