Let us celebrate the soil. Most men toil that they may own a piece of it; they measure their success in life by their ability to buy it.

The excellence of a gift lies in its appropriateness rather than in its value

Goodness comes out of people who bask in the sun, as it does out of a sweet apple roasted before the fire.

Lettuce is like conversation; it must be fresh and crisp, so sparkling that you scarcely notice the bitter in it.

It is fortunate that each generation does not comprehend its own ignorance. We are thus enabled to call our ancestors barbarous.

There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.

To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe, to plant seeds, and watch the renewal of life - this is the commonest delight of the race, the most satisfactory thing a man can do.

Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure.

A cynic might suggest as the motto of modern life this simple legend-"just as good as the real.

Perhaps nobody ever accomplishes all that he feels lies in him to do; but nearly every one who tries his power touches the walls of his being.

Nature is, in fact, a suggester of uneasiness, a promoter of pilgrimages and of excursions of the fancy which never come to any satisfactory haven.

Regret piles up around us like books we have never read.

Fateful moments tend to evoke grandeur of speech, especially in French.

The words we speak to each other should leave stretch marks, not bruises. Love is always picky about what it says.

Everybody is great really and has got to be great.

When God measures a man he puts the tape around the heart, not the head.

Respect was earned, not demanded, but dignity was taught by example.

There's a lot of people who feel there's a tabloid journalist who had it coming.

Laughter ispleasant, butthe exertion istoomuchfor me.

Why did the reindeer wear black boots? Because his brown ones were all muddy!

Man the sum of what have you. A problem in impure properties carried tediously to an unvarying nil: stalemate of dust and desire.