Years Teach Us More Than Books.

I Have Been Young And Am Now Old, And Have Not Yet Known An Untruthful Man To Come To A Good End.

The Silver-leaved Birch Retains In Its Old Age A Soft Bark; There Are Some Such Men.

The Little Dissatisfaction Which Every Artist Feels At The Completion Of A Work Forms The Germ Of A New Work.

Being Alone When One's Belief Is Firm, Is Not To Be Alone.

We Hear The Rain Fall, But Not The Snow. Bitter Grief Is Loud, Calm Grief Is Silent.