Averageness is a quality we must put up with. Men march toward civilization in column formation, and by the time the van has learned to admire the masters the rear is drawing reluctantly away from the totem pole.

Literary people are forever judging the quality of the mind by the turn of expression.

Clever people seem not to feel the natural pleasure of bewilderment, and are always answering questions when the chief relish of a life is to go on asking them.

As wounded men may limp through life, so our war minds may not regain the balance of their thoughts for decades.

As crowds increase we build our forts of inattention, and the more we talk the easier it is to mean little and listen not at all.

The New York playgoer is a child of nature, and he has an honest and wholesome regard of whatever is atrocious in art.

Cast your cares on God; that anchor holds.