We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

I go into my library and all history unrolls before me.

Everything is sweetened by risk.

Trees are your best antiques.

We are never happy; we can only remember that we were so once.

The saddest thing that befalls a soul Is when it loses faith in God and woman.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.

Books are a finer world within the world.

A great man is the man who does something for the first time.

There is no ghost so difficult to lay as the ghost of an injury.

If you wish to preserve your secret, wrap it up in frankness.

In life there is nothing more unexpected and surprising than the arrivals and departures of pleasure. If we find it in one place today, it is vain to seek it there tomorrow. You can not lay a trap for it.

I would rather be remembered by a song than by a victory.

If you do your fair day's work, you are certain to get your fair day's wage - in praise or pudding, whichever happens to suit your taste.

How deeply seated in the human heart is the liking for gardens and gardening.

Christmas is the day that holds all time together.

To be occasionally quoted is the only fame I care for.

A man doesn't plant a tree for himself. He plants it for posterity.

Every man's road in life is marked by the graves of his personal liking.

The dead keep their secrets, and in a while we shall be as wise as they - and as taciturn.

If you wish to make a man look noble, your best course is to kill him. What superiority he may have inherited from his race, what superiority nature may have personally gifted him with, comes out in death.

The world is not so much in need of new thoughts as that when thought grows old and worn with usage it should, like current coin, be called in, and, from the mint of genius, reissued fresh and new.

If the egotist is weak, his egotism is worthless. If the egotist is strong, acute, full of distinctive character, his egotism is precious, and remains a possession of the race.

Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of human life.

Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.

The man who in this world can keep the whiteness of his soul is not likely to lose it in any other.

We bury love; Forgetfulness grows over it like grass: That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.

A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.

To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.

A man gazing on the stars is proverbially at the mercy of the puddles in the road.

The sea complains upon a thousand shores.

The saddest thing that befalls a soul is when it loses faith in God and woman.

Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others and the delight in the recognition.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in another, and the delight in the recognition.

It is not so much consequence what you say, as how you say it. Memorable sentences are memorable, on account of some single irradiating word.

An old novel has a history of its own.

In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October.

Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of human life.

Forgetfulness - a gift of God bestowed upon debtors in compensation for their destitution of conscience.

I do not bring forgiveness with me, nor forgetfulness. The only ones who can forgive are dead; the living have no right to forget.

I have never seen such extreme partisanship, such bitter partisanship, and such forgetfulness of the fate of our fathers and of the Constitution.

If a man dreams that he has committed a sin before which the sun hid his face, it is often safe to conjecture that, in sheer forgetfulness, he wore a red tie, or brown boots with evening dress.

There are two barriers that often prevent communication between the young and their elders. The first is middle-aged forgetfulness of the fact that they themselves are no longer young. The second is youthful ignorance of the fact that the middle aged are still alive.

There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive.

What makes life worth living? Better surely, to yield to the stain of suicide blood in me and seek forgetfulness in the embrace of cold dark death.

There is some pleasure even in words, when they bring forgetfulness of present miseries.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, when naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, and naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.