Friendship is neither a formality nor a mode: it is rather a life.
We fail far more often by timidity than by over-daring.
Happiness ... loves to see men work. She loves sweat, weariness, self-sacrifice. She will not be found in the palaces, but lurking in cornfields and factories, and hovering over littered desks.
No real friendship is ever made without an initial clashing which discloses the metal of each to each.
Of all the people in the world, those who want the most are those who have the most.
What is more enthralling to the human mind than this splendid, boundless, colored mutability!-Life in the making?
