The Old Poets Little Knew What Comfort

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.

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.

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.

Tact Is After All A Kind Of Mind Reading.

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.