“Our business in life is not to succeed, but to continue to fail in good spirits.”

The correction of silence is what kills; when you know you have transgressed, and your friend says nothing, and avoids your eye.

Yet we make the same impression on Buddhists and vegetarians, for we feed on babies, though not our own.

I never weary of great churches. It is my favorite kind of mountain scenery.

I regard you with an indifference closely bordering on aversion.

Man is a creature who lives not upon bread alone, but primarily by catchwords.

Vanity dies hard; in some obstinate cases it outlives the man.

He who sows hurry reaps indigestion.

If your morals make you dreary, depend on it, they are wrong.

Nothing made by brute force lasts.

Wine is bottled poetry.

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.

There is an idea abroad among moral people that they should make their neighbors good.

So long as we are loved by others I should say that we are almost indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend.

But to find your wife laughing when you had tears in your eyes, or staring when you were in a fit of laughter, would go some way towards a dissolution of the marriage.

Most of our pocket wisdom is conceived for the use of mediocre people, to discourage them from ambitious attempts, and generally console them in their mediocrity.

Perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things.

Our truth is hidden in our silence, Yours and I.

Can our Society meet the Challenge of a Technological Future?

Ours is an upbeat, a hurried, hasty beat. It keeps pressing us to go farther, to include everything so that we can savor everything, so that we can know everything.

The Earth Mother needs our help, she needs our prayers.

Modern dancers give a sinister portent about our times. The dancers don’t even look at one another.

We move but our words stand become responsible for more than we intended and this is verbal privilege

A library is a home filled with our stories.

Sometimes we get our hearts broken, only to have the right person come along to mend them.