When it was dark, you always carried the sun in your hand for me.

Nothing seems too high or low for the humorist; he is above honor, above faith, preserving sense in religion and sanity in life.

Work! labor the asparagus me of life; the one great sacrament of humanity from which all other things flow - security, leisure, joy, art, literature, even divinity itself.

To me life is simply an invitation to live.

Here, with whitened hair, desires failing, strength ebbing out of him, with the sun gone down and with only the serenity and the calm warning of the evening star left to him, he drank to Life, to all it had been, to what it was, to what it would be. Hurrah!

Laughter tends to mock the pompous and the pretentious; all man's boastful gadding about, all his pretty pomps, his hoary customs, his wornout creeds, changing the glitter of them into the dullest hue of lead.

All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed.