Happiness Is A Kind Of Gratitude And

To Those Who Study Her, Nature Reveals Herself As Extraordinarily Fertile And Ingenious In Devising Means, But She Has No Ends Which The Human Mind Has Been Able To Discover Or Comprehend.

A Tragic Writer Does Not Have To Believe In God, But He Must Believe In Man.

Man Is The Only One In Whom The Instinct Of Life Falters Long Enough To Enable It To Ask The Question "why?

There Is No Conceivable Human Action Which Custom Has Not At One Time Justified And At Another Condemned.

The Most Serious Charge Which Can Be Brought Against New England Is Not Puritanism, But February.... Spring Is Too Far Away To Comfort Even By Anticipation, And Winter Long Ago Lost The Charm Of Novelty. This Is The Very Three A.m. Of The Calendar.