If We Were To Live Here Always,

To Bring The Best Human Qualities To Anything Like Perfection, To Fill Them With The Sweet Juices Of Courtesy And Charity, Prosperity, Or, At All Events, A Moderate Amount Of It, Is Required,--just As Sunshine Is Needed For The Ripening Of Peaches And Apricots.

The Man Who In This World Can Keep The Whiteness Of His Soul Is Not Likely To Lose It In Any Other.

Love Is But The Discovery Of Ourselves In Others, And The Delight In The Recognition.

How Deeply Seated In The Human Heart Is The Liking For Gardens And Gardening.

To Have To Die Is A Distinction Of Which No Man Is Proud.