The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.
You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by. Yes, but some of them are golden only because we let them slip.
You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by.
It is not real work unless you would rather be doing something else.
Let no one who loves be unhappy, even love unreturned has its rainbow.
Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight: always to try to be a little kinder than is necessary?
