There is no time like the old time, when you and I were young!
Three generations of imbeciles are enough.
We expect more of ourselves than we have any right to.
Society is always trying in some way to grind us down to a single flat surface.
One of the eternal conflicts out of which life is made up is that between the effort of every man to get the most he can for his services, and that of society, disguised under the name of capital, to get his services for the least possible return.
To us who remain behind is left this day of memories. Every year--in the full tide of spring, at the height of the symphony of flowers and love and life--there comes a pause, and through the silence we hear the lonely pipe of death.