Go oft to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path.
Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass.
What a new face courage puts on everything!
Men have come to speak of the revelation as somewhat long ago given and done, as if God were dead. The injury to faith throttles the preacher; and the goodliest of institutions becomes an uncertain and inarticulate voice.
Flowers are the earth laughing.
I do then with my friends as I do with my books. I would have them where I can find them, but I seldom use them.