Before the bud swells, before the grass springs, before the plough is started, comes the sugar harvest. It is sequel of the bitter frost; a sap run is the sweet goodbye of winter.

The smallest deed is better than the greatest intention.

A man can fail many times, but he isn't a failure until he begins to blame somebody else.

For anything worth having one must pay the price; and the price is always work, patience, love, self-sacrifice - no paper currency, no promises to pay, but the gold of real service.

How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.

To learn something new, take the path that you took yesterday.

One resolution I have made, and try always to keep, is this: ‘To rise above little things’.

The longer I live, the more my mind dwells upon the beauty and the wonder of the world.

In winter the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity.

I got a body covered in scars, but then who doesn’t? If you don’t have a few scars, you haven’t really lived.

Curiosity is always good if it is aimed at learning.

My mother always called me 'sturdy' and said I have big bones. A little fat is what I am.

Ive obviously got one of those faces that people can forget.

I love Russian, because it's delicious to speak like that. If you have to speak French, you can also do that, because it's not difficult. Accents are a cool thing to do. And I love doing them.

The mental flexibility of the wise man permits him to keep an open mind and enables him to readjust himself whenever it becomes necessary for a change.

A spark is a little thing, yet it may kindle the world.

I know of people whose actions and words I admire and respect. Some are called "intellectuals," some are not.

Love's a weird one, isn't it? I've never told my husband Graham that I love him. He's never told me either. I think it started as a bit of a joke. We just decided never to say it.

When guilt is in its blush of infancy, it trembles in a tenderness of shame; and the first eye that pierces through the veil that hides the secret brings it to the face