The deadly monotony of Christian country life where there are no beggars to feed, no drunkards to credit, which are among the moral duties of Christians in cities, leads as naturally to the outvent of what Methodists call "revivals" as did the backslidings of the people in those days.

Invitations to speak upon public occasions are among my most grievous embarrassments. Why is it inferred that one is or can be a public speaker because she has written a book? Writing is a very private business. I do not know any other occupation which requires so much privacy unless it is a life of prayer or a life of crime.

I believe if we can wait long enough that every honorable sorrow will become a kind of joy.

So long as a man attends to his business the public does not count his drinks. When he fails they notice if he takes even a glass of root beer.

I have long suspected that the power of speech is not a power at all, but a mere form of hysteria from which the living that really know the truth never suffer because they do not fear life or death as we do and can afford to be calm and silent. The frailest flower that blooms knows that it will rise from the dead in the next season's sun, breathe, feel again the dew and rain. Therefore these little ones make no such tragedy as we do of death.

Maybe I shall never achieve happiness, but one thing I have had - the terrible wisdom of love.

No one has yet had the courage to memorialize his wealth on his tombstone. A dollar mark would not look well there.