There isn't a wife in the world who has not taken the exact measure of her husband, weighed him and settled him in her own mind, and knows him as well as if she had ordered him after designs and specifications of her own.

It is only the fools who keep straining at high C all their lives.

There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.

Politics makes strange bedfellows.

If there was any petting to be done...he chose to do it. Often he would sit looking at me, and then, moved by a delicate affection, come and pull at my coat and sleeve until he could touch my face with his nose, and then go away contented.

Isolation breeds conceit.

Simplicity is making the journey of this life with just baggage enough.