Any subject is good for opera if the composer feels it so intently he must sing it out.

A wasted youth is better by far than a wise and productive old age.

I find my wife hath something in her gizzard, that only waits an opportunity of being provoked to bring up; but I will not, for my content-sake, give it.

The loss which is unknown is no loss at all.

Drive carefully! Remember, it's not only a car that can be recalled by it's maker.

Until death all is life.

The historian sees backward. In the end he also believes backward.

She/he would a rock pile if she thought there was a snake in it.

I've lately had two spiders Crawling upon my startled hopes-- Now though thy friendly hand has brushed 'em from me, Yet still they crawl offensive to mine eyes: I would have some kind friend to tread upon 'em.

Always reward your long hours of labor and toil in the very best way, surrounded by your family. Nurture their love carefully, remembering that your children need models, not critics, and your own progress will hasten when you constantly strive to present your best side to your children. And even if you have failed at all else in the eyes of the world, if you have a loving family, you are a success.

A disbelief in God does not result in a belief in nothing; disbelief in God usually results in a belief in anything.

Good actions ennoble us, we are the sons of our own deeds.

Dear to us are those who love us. . . but dearer are those who reject us as unworthy, for they add another life; they build a heaven before us whereof we had not dreamed, and thereby supply to us new powers out of the recesses of the spirit . . .

Thank you, pretty cow, that made Pleasant milk to soak my bread.

Much education today is monumentally ineffective. All too often we are giving young people cut flowers when we should be teaching them to grow their own plants.

Zeno first started that doctrine, that knavery is the best defence against a knave.

Echo waits with art and care And will the faults of song repair.

But thou, O daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book, even to the time of the end: many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.

But truths on which depends our main concern, That 'tis our shame and misery not to learn, Shine by the side of every path we tread With such a lustre he that runs may read.

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night.