There is so much to love and to admire in this life that it is an act of ingratitude not to be happy and content in this existence.

A man who has to be punctually at a certain place at five o'clock has the whole afternoon ruined for him already.

Now it is characteristic of play that one plays without reason and there must be no reason for it. Play is its own good reason.

If one's bowels move, one is happy, and if they don't move, one is unhappy. That is all there is to it.

However vague they are, dreams have a way of concealing themselves and leave us no peace until they are translated into reality, like seeds germinating underground, sure to sprout in their search for the sunlight.

Today we are afraid of simple words like goodness and mercy and kindness. We don't believe in the good old words because we don't believe in good old values anymore. And that's why the world is sick.

The busy man is never wise and the wise man is never busy.