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.

Modest egotism is the salt of conversation; you do not want too much of it, but if it is altogether omitted, everything tastes flat.

Love that leads life upward is the noblest and the best.

If only the best birds sang, the forest would be silent.

As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.

It is better to burn the candle at both ends, and in the middle, too, than to put it away in the closet and let the mice eat it.

In the progress of personality, first comes a declaration of independence, then a recognition of interdependence.