“I worked like a horse and I ate like a hog and I slept like a dead man.”

The jungle speaks to me because I know how to listen.

We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single excuse.

God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.

You must learn to forgive a man when he’s in love. He’s always a nuisance.

All things considered, there are only two kinds of men in the world: those that stay at home and those that do not.

If you do not get what you want, it is a sure sign that you did not seriously want it.

A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.

All good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!

It’s always best to tell the truth.

Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master.

There is no sin greater than ignorance.

Never look backwards or you’ll fall down the stairs.

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.

If you can wait, and not be tired by waiting if you can dream, and not make dreams your master; if you can think, and not make thoughts your aim; if you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same; yours is the earth and everything that’s in it.

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.

By logic and reason we die hourly; by imagination we live.

As the sun is best seen at his rising and setting, so men’s native dispositions are clearest seen when they are children, and when they are dying.

These sharp edges you left behind, they cut so deep; and I guess maybe I am just not dying enough.

Nothing is born, nothing dies.

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?

It was as though our love were a small creature caught in a trap and bleeding to death: I had to shut my eyes and wring its neck.

Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.

If a tree dies, plant another in its place.