We Are Never Happy; We

In The Entire Circle Of The Year There Are No Days So Delightful As Those Of A Fine October.

To Be Occasionally Quoted Is The Only Fame I Care For.

I Have Learned To Prize The Quiet, Lightning Deed, Not The Applauding Thunder At Its Heels That Men Call Fame.

There Is Nothing Good In This World Which Time Does Not Improve.

There Is A Certain Even-handed Justice In Time; And For What He Takes Away He Gives Us Something In Return. He Robs Us Of Elasticity Of Limb And Spirit, And In Its Place He Brings Tranquility And Repose—the Mild Autumnal Weather Of The Soul.