The greatest sorrow in the life of a peasant is that his donkey is lost. And the greatest happiness is that he finds it back.

The peasant is the only species of human being who doesn’t like the country and never looks at it.

The master and mistress of the house and the rest of the Blood -even the Crux himself- brought our food, poured the wine, did our bidding. The centerpiece was a roasted stag. crowned with gilded...

What infinite heart’s-easeMust kings neglect, that private men enjoy!And what have kings, that privates have not too,Save ceremony, save general ceremony?And what art thou, thou idle ceremony?What kind of god art thou, that suffer’st moreOf...

Barely. They might as well be another species. What would happen without us to keep them in check? They wouldn’t work the land. They would be at each other’s throat if we weren’t there to...