Laughter And Bitterness Are Often The Veils

Women Love The Last Blow As Well As The Last Word, And When They Fight For Love They Are Pitiless As A Wounded Buffalo.

Man Doeth This And Doeth That From The Good Or Evil Of His Heart; But He Knows Not To What End His Sense Doth Prompt Him; For When He Strikes He Is Blind To Where The Blow Shall Fall, Nor Can He Count The Airy Threads That Weave The Web Of Circumstance. Good And Evil, Love And Hate, Night And Day, Sweet And Bitter, Man And Woman, Heaven Above And The Earth Beneath--all Those Things Are Needful, One To The Other, And Who Knows The End Of Each?

It Is Awkward To Listen To Oneself Being Praised, And I Was Always A Shy Man.

We White People Think That We Know Everything.

Man's Cleverness Is Almost Indefinite, And Stretches Like An Elastic Band, But Human Nature Is Like An Iron Ring. You Can Go Round And Round It, You Can Polish It Highly, You Can Even Flatten It A Little On One Side, Whereby You Will Make It Bulge Out The Other, But You Will Never, While The World Endures And Man Is Man, Increase Its Total Circumference.