But we never get back our youth… The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to.

The best way to appreciate your job is to, is here to stay.

Those whom the gods love grow young.

Tread Lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow.

Everybody in American seems in a rush to catch a train.

It is always with the best intentions that the worst work is done.

Friendship is far more tragic than love. It lasts longer.