Lettuce is like conversation; it must be fresh and crisp, so sparkling that you scarcely notice the bitter in it.

Politics make strange bedfellows.

The love of dirt is among the earliest of passions, as it is the latest. Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure. Fondness for the ground comes back to a man after he has run the round of pleasure and business, eaten dirt, and sown wild oats, drifted about the world, and taken the wind of all its moods. The love of digging in the ground (or of looking on while he pays another to dig) is as sure to come back to him, as he is sure, at last, to go under the ground, and stay there.

We are half ruined by conformity, but we should be wholly ruined without it.

A boy has a natural genius for combining business with pleasure.

Memory has the singular characteristic of recalling in a friend absent, as in a journey long past, only that which is agreeable.

The wise man does not permit himself to set up even in his own mind any comparisons of his friends. His friendship is capable of going to extremes with many people, evoked as it is by many qualities.