Benjamin Franklin went through life an altered man because he once paid too dearly for a penny whistle. My concern springs usually from a deeper source, to wit, from having bought a whistle when I did not want one.

Wealth I ask not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek, the heaven above And the road below me.

To the old our mouths are always partly closed; we must swallow our obvious retorts and listen. They sit above our heads, on life's raised dais, and appeal at once to our respect and pity.

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.

To be wholly devoted to some intellectual exercise is to have succeeded in life.

After all, the commonplaces are the great poetic truths.

Give us courage and gaiety and the quient mind . . .