A man is old when he can pass an apple orchard and not remember the stomachache.
Folks never understand the folks they hate.
The nunneries of silent nooks, the murmured longing of the wood.
Talent is that which is in a man's power; genius is that in whose power a man is.
Such power there is in clear-eyed self-restraint.
And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.