By the time you're eighty years old you've learned everything. You only have to remember it.

How wisely fate ordain'd for human kind Calamity! which is the perfect glass, Wherein we truly see and know ourselves.

Usually we trust that nature has a master plan. But what was it she expected us to do with tobacco?.

Nor all America can claim him now: Forevermore he is Mankind's and God's.

Christmas turns things tail-end foremost. The day and the spirit of Christmas rearrange the world parade. As the world arranges it, usually there come first in importance -- leading the parade with a big blare of a band -- the Big Shots. Frequently they are also the Stuffed Shirts. That's the first of the parade. Then at the tail end, as of little importance, trudge the weary, the poor, the lame, the halt, and the blind. But in the Christmas spirit, the procession is turned around. Those at the tail end are put first in the arrangement of the Child of Christmas.

There are certain events which to each man's life are as comets to the earth, seemingly strange and erratic portents; distinct from the ordinary lights which guide our course and mark our seasons, yet true to their own laws, potent in their own influences.

We deserve this payment by all stretches of how one would calculate it.