No mind, however loving, could bear to see plainly into all the recess of another mind.

We need a sense of the value of time - that is, of the best way to divide one's time into one's various activities.

To the artist is sometimes granted a sudden, transient insight which serves in this matter for experience. A flash, and where previously the brain held a dead fact, the soul grasps a living truth! At moments we are all artists.

Worry is evidence of an ill-controlled brain; it is merely a stupid waste of time in unpleasantness.

The test of a first-rate work, and a test of your sincerity in calling it a first-rate work, is that you finish it.

I ought to reflect again and again, and yet again, that the beings that I have to steer are just as inevitable in the scheme of evolution as I am myself; have just as much right to be themselves as I am entitled to; and they all deserve from me as much sympathy as I give to myself.

Does there, I wonder, exist a being who has read all, or approximately all, that the person of average culture is supposed to have read, and that not to have read is a social sin? If such a being does exist, surely he is an old, a very old man.