There Are, In Truth, No

Laughter Is The Music Of Life.

Perhaps No Sin So Easily Besets Us As A Sense Of Self-satisfied Superiority To Others.

Let Each Hour Of The Day Have Its Allotted Duty, And Cultivate That Power Of Concentration Which Grows With Its Exercise.

Breathes There A Man With Soul So Dead That It Does Not Glow At The Thought Of What The Men Of His Blood Have Done And Suffered To Make His Country What It Is? There Is Room, Plenty Of Room, For Proper Pride Of Land And Birth. What I Inveigh Against Is A Cursed Spirit Of Intolerance, Conceived In Distrust And Bred In Ignorance, That Makes The Mental Attitude Perennially Antagonistic, Even Bitterly Antagonistic, To Everything Foreign, That Subordinates Everywhere The Race To The Nation, Forgetting The Higher Claims Of Human Brotherhood.

The Uselessness Of Men Above Sixty Years Of Age And The Incalculable Benefit It Would Be In Commercial, In Political, And In Professional Life, If As A Matter Of Course, Men Stopped Work At This Age.