our right or wrong use of money is the utmost test of character, as well as the root of happiness or misery, throughout our whole lives.

O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves.

With faces like dead lovers who died true.

Every man for himself, and the Devil take the hindmost.

according to the old joke, married people are often like little boys bathing, who cry with chattering teeth to the boys on the shore, 'Do come in, it's so warm' - it is not always warm.

Ethics, as has been well said, are the finest fruits of humanity, but they are not its roots

A person who is careless about money is careless about everything, and untrustworthy in everything.

It is not work that kills, but "worry."

Those whose own light is quenched are often the light-bringers.

How the sting of poverty, or small means, is gone when one keeps house for one's own comfort and not for the comfort of one's neighbors.

Young Dandelion On a hedge-side Said young Dandelion Who'll be my bride? Said young Dandelion With a sweet air, I have my eye on Miss Daisy fair.

Whether it's trying to convince others that something is more true, more virtuous, or more desirable--all communication is rhetoric in action.

Concerning non-violence: it is criminal to teach a man not to defend himself when he is the constant victim of brutal attacks.

My paternal grandmother drove ambulances during the regional Blitz, in Birmingham.

I've never been up with the times, always been slightly out of step.

When you're thirteen and listening to punk, the aggressive nature of music can sway you to the dark side.

The average man never really thinks from end to end of his life. The mental activity of such people is only a mouthing of clichés.

I have a motto: it's never too late to give up. It's never too late to give up what you are doing, and start doing what you realise you love.

I was wearing like, a Juicy Couture men's polo shirt. We weren't there, like, ready for war.

I survived, carried on, glad to be like a weed, a wild red poppy, rooted in life.

One does not become fully human painlessly.