Most men die at 27, we just bury them at 72.

When I want to read something nice, I sit down and write it myself.

Only he who has seen better days and lives to see better days again knows their full value.

No sane man can be happy, for to him life is real, and he sees what a fearful thing it is.

It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened.

To be vested with enormous authority is a fine thing; but to have the on-looking world consent to it is finer.

Warm summer sun, shine kindly here.