The process of falling in love at first sight is as final as it is swift in such a case, but the growth of true friendship may be a lifelong affair.
This is a very small world; we are all within hail of each other. I dare say when we get to Heaven there will not be a stranger to make friends with. -A Country Doctor.
The growth of true friendship may be a lifelong affair.
My childhood is very vivid to me, and I don’t feel very different now from the way I felt then. It would appear I am the very same person, only with wrinkles.
I’ve found that people who look at things as they are, and not as they wish them to be, are the ones who succeed.
You must find your own quiet center of life, and write from that to the world.
In the life of each of us there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness.
It is a splendid thing to have the use of any gift of God. It isn’t for us to choose again, or wonder and dispute, but just work in our own places, and leave the rest to God.
Tain’t worthwhile to wear a day all out before it comes.
It is the people who can do nothing who find nothing to do, and the secret to happiness in this world is not only to be useful, but to be forever elevating one’s uses.
There is something out of gear about graded schools and all that. Memory is developed at the expense of what in general we are pleased to call thought and character.
There was a patient look on the old man’s face, as if the world were a great mistake and he had nobody with whom to speak his own language or find companionship.
It seems to me like stealing, for men and women to live in the world and do nothing to make it better.
Tact is after all a kind of mind reading.
My dear father; my dear friend; the best and wisest man I ever knew, who taught me many lessons and showed me many things as we went together along the country by-ways.
Yes’m, old friends is always best, ’less you can catch a new one that’s fit to make an old one out of.
In the life of each of us, I said to myself, there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness; we are each the uncompanioned hermit and recluse of an hour or a day; we understand our fellows of the cell to whatever age of history they may belong.
So we die before our own eyes; so we see some chapters of our lives come to their natural end.