Death was a beginning and not an end; it was the morning of the spirit. Tired bodies lay down to sleep and their souls wakened to the morning, rested; the first fruits of them that slept.

To men and women who want to do things, there is nothing quite so driving as the force of an imprisoned ego. . . . All genius comes from this class.

[On the Irish:] Strange race ... Don't know what they want, but want it like the devil.

Men were not equal in the effort they made, nor did equal efforts bring equal result. ... Equality of opportunity, yes. Equality of effort and result, no.

That is the tragedy of growing old, Chris. You don't leave the world. It leaves you.

every act of one's life is the unavoidable result of every act that has preceded it.

having considerable mind, changing it became almost as ponderous an operation as moving a barn, although not nearly so stable.