As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend.

Christ was the first true democrat that ever breathed, as the old dramatist Dekkar said he was the first true gentleman.

I who still pray at morning and at eve Thrice in my life perhaps have truly prayed, Thrice stirred below conscious self Have felt that perfect disenthrallment which is God.

Fashion being the art of those who must purchase notice at some cheaper rate than that of being beautiful, loves to do rash and extravagant things. She must be forever new, or she becomes insipid.

Truth, after all, wears a different face to everybody, and it would be too tedious to wait till all were agreed. She is said to lie at the bottom of a well, for the very reason, perhaps, that whoever looks down in search of her sees his own image at the bottom, and is persuaded not only that he has seen the goddess, but that she is far better looking than he had imagined.

The true ideal is not opposed to the real but lies in it; and blessed are the eyes that find it.

Better one bite at forty, of truths bitter rind, than the hot wine that gushed from the vintage of twenty.