The most important part of a story is the ending. No one reads a book to get to the middle.
Some great poet or philosopher once said that " he who goes to nature for comfort must go to her empty handed " , and I think he was right.
Words as to the inner emotions do not come readily to me, for I have led an isolated life mentally and spiritually.
It was ordained that our earthly pilgrammage should be a struggle, and life would be a tame affair if everything went smoothly.
What is charm, it is not a moral quality. . it is not intellectual for no man by much thinking is able to add a grain of it to his personality. One either has it or has it not, it cannot be acquired or even cultivated. It is not physical even. . it seems to be added to the human personality, an aura, a glow, the gold dust upon a butterfly's wing, the bloom upon a peach.
Unlike most great talkers, the rooks are good workers, too.
It was still the custom of the countryside to build with local materials produced as close to the selected site as possible, for transport was difficult, even the best of country roads being more fitted for horseback traffic rather than heavy loads.
Wherever a dancer stands is holy ground.
There is no patch for stupidity.
We reap what we sow. We are the makers of our own fate. The wind is blowing; those vessels whose sails are unfurled catch it, and go forward on their way, but those which have their sails furled do not catch the wind. Is that the fault of the wind?. . . . . . . We make our own destiny.
When the flower opens, the bees will come.