There is probably an element of malice in the readiness to overestimate people: we are laying up for ourselves the pleasure of lat...er cutting them down to size.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon ploughed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly ...called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
So, laying his cheek against the dresser's wooden one, He died making up stories, the ones... Not every child wanted to listen to.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Did you ever hear the story about the fighter that was losing badly to the other guy? He's getting the hell kicked out of him and ...he comes back to his corner between rounds and his manager says, "Keep up the good work, kid, because the other guy isn't laying a glove on you." And the fighter says, "Then you'd better keep your eye on the referee because somebody is kicking the shit out of me."LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Look at the trees now, aren't they bare? But you let a certain day come for spring and they'll come out. They won't be the same le...aves that was there last year, but when they come out they're so pretty. I look out at those trees and just think, Oh, you're so beautiful. God sure dressed you up. I say that to a tree. The work I have done, if I have to do it over, I'm willin'. But I don't want to go back. Let me be the leaf just laying at the foot of the tree giving it substance to grow.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
What's the use of worrying? It never was worth while,... So, pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag, And smile, smile, smile.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
He had seen the end of an era, the sunset of the pioneer. He had come upon it when already its glory was nearly spent. So in the b...uffalo times a traveller used to come upon the embers of a hunter's fire on the prairies, after the hunter was up and gone; the coals would be trampled out, but the ground was warm, and the flattened grass where he had slept and where his pony had grazed, told the story. This was the very end of the road-making West; the men who had put plains and mountains under the iron harness were old; some were poor, and even the successful ones were hunting for rest and a brief reprieve from death. It was already gone, that age; nothing could ever bring it back. The taste and smell and song of it, the visions those men had seen in the air and followed,--these he had caught in a kind of afterglow in their own faces,--and this would always be his.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »