And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.

Life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter.

Once in a century a man may be ruined or made insufferable by praise. But surely once in a minute something generous dies for want of it.

To most of us the future seems unsure. But then it always has been; and we who have seen great changes must have great hopes.

In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.

Humans consist of body, mind and imagination. Our bodies are faulty, our minds untrustworthy, but our imagination has made us remarkable.

The days that make us happy make us wise