If ever any man wants to be anything in my life, he will speak plainly and say what he wants and thinks and hopes and intends and feels in not more than two-syllable English.

I learned my lesson about the futility of building your house of dreams on a foundation of sand.

Next time I erect a dream house, it is going to have a proper foundation of solid granite.

And that may seem a queer thing for me to say when you know that I am getting the joy in my life, that I do not hesitate to admit I am, from letters written by a man whose name I don't know.

It may be that I don't know the man, but I certainly am very well acquainted with him, and in some way he seems to me to be taking on more definite form.