No man ever will unfold the capacities of his own intellect who does not at least chequer his life with solitude.
Thomas De Quincey, Confessions of an English opium-eater, and Suspiria de profundis, Boston, 1850, p. 270
No man ever will unfold the capacities of his own intellect who does not at least chequer his life with solitude.
Thomas De Quincey, Confessions of an English opium-eater, and Suspiria de profundis, Boston, 1850, p. 270