I am never indifferent, and never pretend to be, to what people say or think of my books. They are my children, and I like to have them liked.

So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest.

The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.

Today is the blocks with which we build.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.

The soul never grows old.

To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.