I visited a college once and saw how Greek was taught.

They showed me a clay model of ancient Athens and pointed out the house that each philosopher and poet lived in thousands of years ago.

"Where are the houses," I asked the graduates, "that you are going to live in to-morrow ?" "Heaven only knows," they said.

"We'll have to take our chances in the general scarcity; our fate is on the knees of the gods." The luck of the Mooseheart boy is not on the knees of the gods; it is in his own hands.
I visited the Latin department and heard of Rome's ancient grandeur.
"The Romans," they told me, "were not philosophers, but builders.
They built concrete roads to the ends of the earth.

But their soldiers brought back malarial fever from Africa.