What does not benefit the hive is no benefit to the bee.

It is the act of a madman to pursue impossibilities .

Severally on the occasion of everything that thou doest, pause and ask thyself, if death is a dreadful thing because it deprives thee of this.

Is your cucumber bitter? Throw it away. Are there briars in your path? Turn aside. That is enough. Do not go on and ay, 'Why were things of this sort ever brought into the world?'

Perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last, without frenzy, without apathy, without pretence.

There is no man so blessed that some who stand by his deathbed won't hail the occasion with delight.

Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.