“Death is not the end. There remains the litigation over the estate.”

IMAGINATION, n. A warehouse of facts, with poet and liar in joint ownership.

LIFE, n. A spiritual pickle preserving the body from decay. We live in daily apprehension of its loss; yet when lost it is not missed.

Patience, n. A minor form of dispair, disguised as a virtue.

Religion. A daughter of Hope and Fear, explaining to Ignorance the nature of the Unknowable.

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.

RUMOR, n. A favorite weapon of the assassins of character.

REFLECTION,n: An Action of the mind whereby we obtain a clearer view of our relation to the things of yesterday and are able to avoid the perils that we shall not again encounter.

You don’t have to be stupid to be a Christian, but it probably helps.

PITY, n. A failing sense of exemption, inspired by contrast.

Responsibility, n. A detachable burden easily shifted to the shoulders of God, Fate, Fortune, Luck or one’s neighbor. In the days of astrology it was customary to unload it upon a star.

There are two instruments worse than a clarinet – two clarinets.

Forgetfulness – a gift of God bestowed upon debtors in compensation for their destitution of conscience.

Edible, adj.: Good to eat, and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm.

ULTIMATUM, n. In diplomacy, a last demand before resorting to concessions.

The hardest tumble a man can make is to fall over his own bluff.

Women of genius commonly have masculine faces, figures and manners. In transplanting brains to an alien soil God leaves a little of the original earth clinging to the roots.

If the truth shall kill them, let them die.

Death is the easiest of all things after it, and the hardest of all things before it.

A man may hate cruelty and lies, but if he’s never given an opportunity to show what he’s made of, no one will remember him when he dies.

Cursed is the man who dies, but the evil done by him survives.

For books are more than books, they are the life, the very heart and core of ages past, the reason why men worked and died, the essence and quintessence of their lives.

Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one.

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not.

The life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. The love you gave in life keeps people alive beyond their time. Anyone who was given love will always live on in another’s heart.