It is the history of our kindnesses that alone make this world tolerable. If it were not for that, for the effect of kind words, kind looks, kind letters . . . I should be inclined to think our life a practical jest in the worst possible spirit.

All sorts of allowances are made for the illusions of youth, and none, or almost none for the disenchantment of age.

It is a great thing if you can persuade people that they are somehow or other partakers in a mystery. It makes them feel bigger.

We must accept life for what it actually is - a challenge to our quality without which we should never know of what stuff we are made, or grow to our full stature.

Sir, with no intention to take offence, I deny your right to put words into my mouth.

Sing a song of seasons; something bright in all, flowers in the summer, fires in the fall.

I kept always two books in my pocket, one to read, one to write in.