Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it passes lightly, with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of Nature. What seems a kind of temporal death to people choked between walls and curtains, is only a light and living slumber to the man who sleeps afield.

I consider the success of my day based on the seeds I sow, not the harvest I reap.

We should strive to go on in fortune and misfortune like a clock during a thunderstorm.

To make our morality center on forbidden acts is to defile the imagination and to introduce into our judgments of our fellow men a secret element of gusto.

Give us grace and strength to forbear and to persevere. Give us courage and gaiety and the quiet mind, spare to us our friends, soften to us our enemies.

Although I may express myself with some degree of pleasantry the purport of my words is entirely serious.

The world has no room for cowards.