A friendship counting nearly forty years is the finest kind of shade-tree I know.

A man is old when he can pass an apple orchard and not remember the stomachache.

It may be conjectured that it is cheaper in the long run to lift men up than to hold them down, and that the ballot in their hands is less dangerous to society than a sense of wrong is in their heads.

The pale and quiet moon Makes her calm forehead bare, And the last fragments of the storm, Like shattered rigging from a fight at sea, Silent and few, are drifting over me.

It is not a great Xerxes army of words, but a compact Greek ten thousand that march safely down to posterity.

It is not without reason that fame is awarded only after death. The cloud-dust of notoriety which follows and envelops the men who drive with the wind bewilders contemporary judgment.

The greatest homage we can pay to truth, is to use it.