To eat bread without hope is still slowly to starve to death.

Life without idealism is empty indeed. We just hope or starve to death.

None who have always been free can understand the terrible fascinating power of the hope of freedom to those who are not free.

In a mood of faith and hope my work goes on. A ream of fresh paper lies on my desk waiting for the next book. I am a writer and I take up my pen to write.

I feel no need for any other faith than my faith in the kindness of human beings. I am so absorbed in the wonder of earth and the life upon it that I cannot think of heaven and angels.

We should so provide for old age that it may have no urgent wants of this world to absorb it from meditation on the next. It is awful to see the lean hands of dotage making a coffer of the grave.