“Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.”

Conscience is harder than our enemies, Knows more, accuses with more nicety.

There is no killing the suspicion that deceit has once begotten.

Knowledge slowly builds up what Ignorance in an hour pulls down.

It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able to feel that it is fine–something like being blind, while people talk of the sky.

One must be poor to know the luxury of giving!

After all, the true seeing is within.

When God makes His presence felt through us, we are like the burning bush: Moses never took any heed what sort of bush it was—he only saw the brightness of the Lord.

Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.

It’s no use filling your pocket with money if you have got a hole in the corner.

We want people to feel with us more than to act for us.

It is pleasant to have a kind word now and then when one is not near enough to have a kind glance or a hearty shake by the hand.

In travelling I shape myself betimes to idleness And take fools’ pleasure

“Heaven help us,” said the old religion; the new one, from its very lack of that faith, will teach us all the more to help one another.

There is only one failure in life possible, and that is not to be true to the best one knows.

Our deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are.

What a wretched lot of old shrivelled creatures we shall be by-and-by. Never mind – the uglier we get in the eyes of others, the lovelier we shall be to each other; that has always been my firm faith about friendship.

I had forgotten how much light there is in the world, till you gave it back to me.

Have we forgotten that we’re all born the same way: naked, wet, and hungry? Then things get worse!

American business has just forgotten the importance of selling.

The reason American cars don’t sell anymore is that they have forgotten how to design the American Dream. What does it matter if you buy a car today or six months from now, because cars are not beautiful. That’s why the American auto industry is in trouble: no design, no desire.

I can’t tell you what art does and how it does it, but I know that often art has judged the judges, pleaded revenge to the innocent and shown to the future what the past suffered, so that it has never been forgotten.

The Hispanic community understands the American Dream and have not forgotten what they were promised – that in the U.S., a free market system, allows us all to succeed economically, achieve stability and security for your family and leave your children better off than yourselves.

Christmas is a time when everybody wants his past forgotten and his present remembered.

When we have forgotten ourselves and become absorbed in someone (or something) outside ourselves