There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old age; youth’s burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares; old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.
O. HENRYThere is a saying that no man has tasted the full flavor of life until he has known poverty, love, and war.
More O. Henry Quotes
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It’ll be a great place if they ever finish it.
O. HENRY -
Perhaps there is no happiness in life so perfect as the martyr’s.
O. HENRY -
When a man begins to be hilarious in a sorrowful way you can bet a million that he is dyeing his hair.
O. HENRY -
I’ve got some of my best yarns from park benches, lamp posts and newspaper stands.
O. HENRY -
East is East, and West is San Francisco, according to Californians. Californians are a race of people; they are not merely inhabitants of a State.
O. HENRY -
This fair but pitiless city of Manhattan was without a soul its inhabitants were manikins moved by wires and springs.
O. HENRY -
She had become so thoroughly annealed into his life that she was like the air he breathed–necessary but scarcely noticed.
O. HENRY -
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
O. HENRY -
A straw vote only shows which way the hot air blows.
O. HENRY -
To a woman nothing seems quite impossible to the powers of the man she worships.
O. HENRY -
In the Big City a man will disappear with the suddenness and completeness of the flame of a candle that is blown out.
O. HENRY -
Love and business and family and religion and art and patriotism are nothing but shadows of words when a man’s starving!
O. HENRY -
Whenever he saw a dollar in another man’s hands he took it as a personal grudge, if he couldn’t take it any other way.
O. HENRY -
Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
O. HENRY -
When I see a shipwreck, I like to know what caused the disaster. I learned nothing but the glow that wrapped her face when the soup came. That’s the story.
O. HENRY