...those little people, my brownies, who do one half of my work for me while I am fast asleep, and in all human likelihood do the rest for me as well, when I am wide awake and fondly suppose I do for myself.

Like a bird singing in the rain, let grateful memories survive in time of sorrow.

Anyone can carry their burden, however hard, until nightfall. Anyone can do their work, however hard, for one day.

Nothing made by brute force lasts.

There is a fellowship more quiet even than solitude, and which, rightly understood, is solitude made perfect.

The best things are nearest: breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of God just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain common work as it comes certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things of life.

To love playthings well as a child, to lead an adventurous and honorable youth, and to settle when the time arrives, into a green and smiling age, is to be a good artis en life and deserve well of yourself and your neighbor.