If all the skies were sunshine Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling splash of rain. If all the world were music, Our hearts would often long For one sweet strain of silence, To break the endless song If life were always merry, Our souls would seek relief, And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief.

In love and friendship, small, steady payments on a gold basis are better than immense promissory notes.

Even if we should find another Eden, we would not be fit to enjoy it perfectly nor stay in it forever.

Tact is the unsaid part of what you think.

It is with rivers as it is with people: the greatest are not always the most agreeable nor the best to live with.

Love is not getting, but giving; It is goodness, and honor, and peace and pure living.

There is no conflict between the Old and the New; the conflict is between the False and the True.