The mind which renounces, once and for ever, a futile hope, has its compensation in ever-growing calm.

Human creatures have a mervellous power of adapting themselves to necessity.

Life, I fancy, would very often be insupportable, but for the luxury of self compassion.

Honest winter, snow clad and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; but that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping loom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honor of May - how often has it robbed me of heart and hope.

For the man sound of body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously.

I hate with a bitter hatred the names of lentils haricots - those pretentious cheats of the appetite, those tabulated humbugs, those certified aridites calling themselves human food!

Have the courage of your desire.