I suspect that for a good deal of the time you live in a sort of glass case, not knowing real enthusiasm or genuine emotion; or feeling them perhaps at second hand, feeling them sometimes because you think you ought to, not because you really do.

If every one of you was to clean before his own front door, all would be clean of cow flops.

Ill usage makes the sweetest of us vicious.

It isn't where you're born in this world, it's what you do.

In the depths of horror and despair, one comes to a new steadiness. There is no farther to fall.

A nice frame doesn’t make a nice picture.

The past is over, gone. What is to come doesn't exist yet. That's tomorrow! It's only now that can ever be, at any moment. And at this moment, now, we are alive--and together. We can't ask more. There isn't any more to ask.

Life is like--like one of those hobby-horses you ride at a fair--round and round you go enjoying every moment and then the--then the music stops...