A brave soul is a thing which all things serve.

Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.

I have learned to prize the quiet, lightning deed, not the applauding thunder at its heels that men call fame.

Not on the stage alone, in the world also, a man's real character comes out best in his asides.

Thoughts must come naturally, like wild-flowers; they cannot be forced in a hot-bed, even although aided by the leaf-mould of your past.

In my garden I spend my days, in my library I spend my nights. My interests are divided between my geraniums and my books. With the flower I am in the present; with the book I am in the past.

One never hugs one's good luck so affectionately as when listening to the relation of some horrible misfortunes which has overtaken others.