A friend is a gift you give yourself.
I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.
It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well.
Books are good enough in their own way, but they are a poor substitute for life.
So long as we love, we serve so long as we are loved by others, I should say that we are almost indispensable and no man is useless while he has a friend.
There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy.
You can forgive people who do not follow you through a philosophical disquisition; but to find your wife laughing when you had tears in your eyes, or staring when you were in a fit of laughter, would go some way towards a dissolution of the marriage.
You cannot run away from weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand?
It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive.
Perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business, is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things.
The mark of a good action is that it appears inevitable in retrospect.
Anyone can carry his burden, however hard, until nightfall. Anyone can do his work, however hard, for one day. Anyone can live sweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, until the sun goes down. And this is all that life really means.
Marriage is one long conversation, checkered by disputes.
If a man loves the labor of his trade apart from any question of success or fame, the Gods have called him.
Our business in this world is not to succeed, but to continue to fail, in good spirits.
I kept always two books in my pocket, one to read, one to write in.
I feel very strongly about putting questions; it partakes too much of the style of the day of judgement. You start a question, and it's like starting a stone. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, starting others; and presently some bland old bird (the last you would have thought of) is knocked on the head in his own back garden, and the family have to change their name. No, sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask.
There is certainly some chill and arid knowledge to be found upon the summits of formal and laborious science; but it is all round about you, and for the trouble of looking, that you will acquire the warm and palpitating facts of life.
Every man has a sane spot somewhere.
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