All our yesterdays, it is true, have only lighted fools the way to dusty death. But we need at least the dates of the yesterdays and the list of the fools.
Chess is one long regret.
Life, we learn too late, is in the living, the tissue of every day and hour.
In point of morals, the average woman is, even for business, too crooked.
I detest life-insurance agents: they always argue that I shall some day die, which is not so.
What we call creative work, ought not to be called work at all, because it isn't. I imagine that Thomas Edison never did a day's work in his last fifty years.