We cannot, after all, judge a biography by its length, by the number of pages in it; we must judge by the richness of the contents. . . Sometimes the 'unfinisheds' are among the most beautiful symphonies.
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away.