I Owe A Lot To My Teachers

How Strange It Is, Our Little Procession Of Life! The Child Says, "when I Am A Big Boy." But What Is That? The Big Boy Says, "when I Grow Up." And Then, Grown Up, He Says, "when I Get Married." But To Be Married, What Is That After All? The Thought Changes To "when I'm Able To Retire." And Then, When Retirement Comes, He Looks Back Over The Landscape Traversed; A Cold Wind Seems To Sweep Over It; Somehow He Has Missed It All, And It Is Gone.

A Lone Maple Leaf Resting On Sand Have You Ever Been Out For A Late Autumn Walk In The Closing Part Of The Afternoon, And Suddenly Looked Up To Realize That The Leaves Have Practically All Gone? And The Sun Has Set And The Day Gone Before You Knew It, And With That A Cold Wind Blows Across The Landscape? That's Retirement.

All Our Yesterdays, It Is True, Have Only Lighted Fools The Way To Dusty Death. But We Need At Least The Dates Of The Yesterdays And The List Of The Fools.

Writing Is No Trouble: You Just Jot Down Ideas As They Occur To You. The Jotting Is Simplicity Itself - It Is The Occurring Which Is Difficult.

Most People Tire Of A Lecture In Ten Minutes; Clever People Can Do It In Five. Sensible People Never Go To Lectures At All. But The People Who Do Go To A Lecture And Who Get Tired Of It, Presently Hold It As A Sort Of Grudge Against The Lecturer Personally. In Reality His Sufferings Are Worse Than Theirs.