For My Part, The Good Novel Of

The Earliest Voice Listened To By The Nations In Their Infancy Was The Voice Of The Storyteller.

To Have Given Pleasure To One Human Being Is A Recollection That Sweetens Life.

If We Could Make Up Our Minds To Spare Our Friends All Details Of Ill Health, Of Money Losses, Of Domestic Annoyances, Of Altercations, Of Committee Work, Of Grievances, Provocations, And Anxieties, We Should Sin Less Against The World's Good-humor. It May Not Be Given Us To Add To The Treasury Of Mirth; But There Is Considerable Merit In Not Robbing It.

America Has Invested Her Religion As Well As Her Morality In Sound Income-paying Securities. She Has Adopted The Unassailable Position Of A Nation Blessed Because It Deserves To Be Blessed; And Her Sons, Whatever Other Theologies They May Affect Or Disregard, Subscribe Unreservedly To This National Creed.

A Man Who Listens Because He Has Nothing To Say Can Hardly Be A Source Of Inspiration. The Only Listening That Counts Is That Of The Talker Who Alternately Absorbs And Expresses Ideas.