Let us dream of evanescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things.

It is not the accumulation of extraneous knowledge, but the realization of the self within, that constitutes true progress.

Tea is more than an idealization of the form of drinking; it is a religion of the art of life.

The outsider may indeed wonder at this seeming much ado about nothing. What a tempest in a tea-cup! he will say. But when we consider how small after all the cup of human enjoyment is, how soon overflowed with tears, how easily drained to the dregs in our quenchless thirst for infinity, we shall not blame ourselves for making so much of the tea-cup.

We take refuge in pride, because we are afraid to tell the truth to ourselves.

In our common parlance we speak of the man "with no tea" in him, when he is insusceptible to the serio-comic interests of the personal drama.

Friends are flowers in life's garden.