“Truth needs not flowers of speech.”

Amusement is the happiness of those who cannot think.

Do you find yourself making excuses when you do not perform? Shed the excuses and face reality. Excuses are the loser’s way out. They will mar your credibility and stunt your personal growth.

A little learning is a dangerous thing; drink of it deeply, or taste it not, for shallow thoughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking deeply sobers us again.

Every professional was once an amateur.

The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.

There is a majesty in simplicity.

He who tells a lie is not sensible of how great a task he undertakes; for he must be forced to invent twenty more to maintain that one.

Charm strikes the sight, but merit wins the soul.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always To be Blest.

In this commonplace world every one is said to be romantic who either admires a fine thing or does one.

Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?

Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty; it is not only needless, but it impairs what it would improve.

Get your enemy to read your works in order to mend them, for your friend is so much your second self that he will judge too like you.

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

When we are young, we are slavishly employed in procuring something whereby we may live comfortably when we grow old; and when we are old, we perceive it is too late to live as we proposed.

All nature is but art unknown to thee.

You have it in your power to make your days on Earth a path of flowers, instead of a path of thorns.

When a bud breaks it becomes a flower, when a heart breaks it becomes divine.

I think people need to be educated to the fact that marijuana is not a drug. Marijuana is an herb and a flower. God put it here. If He put it here and He wants it to grow, what gives the government the right to say that God is wrong?

Where soil is, men grow, Whether to weeds or flowers.

She tasted like wildflowers; crushed, wet wild flowers carried in sticky palms through farmers’ fields, just before dawn.

Shed no tear – O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more – O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root’s white core.

Don’t bring her dead flowers, take her to where the flowers live.

She might look like a fragile flower, but her stem is made of steel.