Who has smelled the woodsmoke at twilight, who has seen the campfire burning, who is quick to read the noises of the night?

San Francisco is a mad city - inhabited for the most part by perfectly insane people whose women are of a remarkable beauty.

You sometimes see a woman who would have made a Joan of Arc in another century and climate, threshing herself to pieces over all the mean worry of housekeeping.

Beware of overconcern for money, or position, or glory. Someday you will meet a man who cares for none of these things. Then you will know how poor you are.

One learns more from a good scholar in a rage than from a score of lucid and laborious drudges.

The American does not drink at meals as a sensible man should. Indeed, he has no meals. He stuffs for ten minutes thrice a day.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees, So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!