The finest language is mostly made up of simple unimposing words.
There are men whose presence infuses trust and reverence.
Men can do nothing without the make-believe of a beginning.
More helpful than all wisdom is one draught of simple human pity that will not forsake us.
What a different result one gets by changing the metaphor!
Somebody put a drop under a magnifying-glass and it was all semicolons and parentheses.
It is necessary to me, not simply to be but to utter, and I require utterance of my friends.
Wit is a form of force that leaves the limbs at rest.
No man is matriculated to the art of life till he has been well tempted.
All meanings, we know, depend on the key of interpretation.
The best happiness will be to escape the worst misery.
The great river-courses which have shaped the lives of men have hardly changed; and those other streams, the life-currents that ebb and flow in human hearts, pulsate to the same great needs, the same great loves and terrors. As our thought follows close in the slow wake of the dawn, we are impressed with the broad sameness of the human lot, which never alters in the main headings of its history--hunger and labour, seed-time and harvest, love and death.
A friend is one to whom one may pour out the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that gentle hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.
In all failures, the beginning is certainly the half of the whole.
No one who has ever known what it is to lose faith in a fellow-man whom he has profoundly loved and reverenced, will lightly say that the shock can leave the faith in the Invisible Goodness unshaken. With the sinking of high human trust, the dignity of life sinks too; we cease to believe in our own better self, since that also is part of the common nature which is degraded in our thought; and all the finer impulses of the soul are dulled.
Ignorance gives one a large range of probabilities.
It is as useless to fight against the interpretations of ignorance as to whip the fog.
The mind that is too ready at contempt and reprobation is, I may say, as a clenched fist that can give blows, but is shut up from receiving and holding ought that is precious.
I take a dose of mathematics every day to prevent my brain from becoming quite soft.
It's never too late to be who you were meant to be.
It is surely better to pardon too much, than to condemn too much.
Our thoughts are often worse than we are.
We want people to feel with us more than to act for us.
Appearances have very little to do with happiness.
This is a puzzling world, and Old Harry's got a finger in it.
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