Love is a malady, the common symptoms of which are the same in all patients.

It is not what we learn in conversation that enriches us. It is the elation that comes of swift contact with tingling currents of thought.

There is no liberal education for the under-languaged.

It is in his pleasure that a man really lives; it is from his leisure that he constructs the true fabric of self.

Who that has plodded on to middle age would take back upon his shoulders ten of the vanished years, with their mingled pleasures and pains? Who would return to the youth he is forever pretending to regret?

Books that children read but once are of scant service to them; those that have really helped to warm our imaginations and to train our faculties are the few old friends we know so well that they have become a portion of our thinking selves.

The earliest voice listened to by the nations in their infancy was the voice of the storyteller.