There is in us a lyric germ or nucleus which deserves respect; it bids a man to ponder or create; and in this dim corner of himself he can take refuge and find consolations which the society of his fellow creatures does not provide.

You can construct the character of a man and his age not only from what he does and says, but from what he fails to say and do.

Many a man who thinks to found a home discovers that he has merely opened a tavern for his friends.

No great man is ever born too soon or too late.

What is all wisdom save a collection of platitudes? But the man who orders his life according to their teachings cannot go far wrong.

A man who is stingy with saffron is capable of seducing his own grandmother.

Has any man ever obtained inner harmony by simply reading about the experiences of others? Not since the world began has it ever happened. Each man must go through the fire himself.

What is all wisdom save a collection of platitudes? Take fifty of our current proverbial sayings—they are so trite, so threadbare, that we can hardly bring our lips to utter them. None the less they embody the concentrated experience of the race, and the man who orders his life according to their teaching cannot go far wrong. How easy that seems! Has any one ever done so? Never. Has any man ever attained to inner harmony by pondering the experience of others? Not since the world began! He must pass through the fire.