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Updated: June 13, 2025
One bears the figure of an organ, with the words, "Rustreus te vit, and Feci." The atrium of the old church, which is the distinguishing mark of a Basilica, existed down to the seventeenth century, and is now replaced by a modern court. The plan of the former church was a duplicate of that of old St. Peter's.
The duke would not pass the chapel without entering. The pavement upon which they knelt had been worked with many a rich and curious device; but time and the knees of the faithful had worn away most of the finest tracery. At the foot of one of the columns still remained this fragment of an inscription: Hoc pavimentum ... feci ... ductus amore Dei.
I asked, in the words of a great motto, "Ubi lapsus? quid feci?" One day when I entered my house, I found a flight of Under-graduates inside. Heads of Houses, as mounted patrols, walked their horses round those poor cottages. Doctors of Divinity dived into the hidden recesses of that private tenement uninvited, and drew domestic conclusions from what they saw there.
The mingled truculence and tortuousness of the diplomacy by which Bismarck sapped up to the short but decisive war, the issue of which gave to Prussia the virtual headship of Germany and contributed so greatly toward the unification of the Fatherland, constitute a striking illustration of his methods in statecraft. He was fairly entitled to say, "Ego qui feci."
The hubbub was such that Byron wrote to Murray, authorizing him to disclaim all responsibility, and offering to refund the payment he had received. "Say that both you and Mr. Gilford remonstrated. I will come to England to stand trial. 'Me, me, adsum qui feci," and much to the same effect.
It read as follows: <i>In Sneffels Yoculis craterem kem delibat umbra Scartaris Julii intra calendas descende, audas viator, et terrestre centrum attinges. Kod feci. Arne Saknussemm</i>
I begin to grow over-hardened, and, like a stag turning at bay, my naturally good temper grows fierce and dangerous. Yet what a romance to tell, and told I fear it will one day be. And then my three years of dreaming and my two years of wakening will be chronicled doubtless. But the dead will feel no pain. November 8. Domum mansi, lanam feci.
An arm reliquary bears the inscription in raised Lombardic letters: "Ego Chacia usor Dimitrii feci fieri hoc opus." It is of plain metal enriched with filigree, and set with stones and patterned cloisonné enamels, and stands upon a triangular cast base with three feet; on each side is a winged figure with sceptre and orb amid twelfth-century scroll-work.
Itaque hujusmodi musica maximo impedimento non solum pauperi et negotioso viro est, sed etiam omnibus generaliter. Quin etiam virorum egregiorum nostræ ætatis neminem musicum agnovimus, Erasmum, Alciatum, Budæum, Jasonem, Vesalium, Gesnerum. At vero quod domum everterit meam, si dicam, vera fatebor meo more. Nam et pecuniæ non levem jacturam feci, et quod majus est, filiorum mores corrupi.
I asked, in the words of a great motto, "Ubi lapsus? quid feci?" One day when I entered my house, I found a flight of undergraduates inside. Heads of houses, as mounted patrols, walked their horses round those poor cottages. Doctors of divinity dived into the hidden recesses of that private tenement uninvited, and drew domestic conclusions from what they saw there.
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