Archives - July 2001
July 1, 2001
Summertime is the time of sharpest memory.
July 2, 2001
I know only two tunes: one is "Yankee Doodle" and the other isn't.
July 3, 2001
The God who gave us life, gave us liberty at the same time.
July 4, 2001
My efforts to cut out 50,000 words may sometimes result in my adding 75,000.
July 5, 2001
I'm a universal patriot, if you could understand me rightly: my country is the world.
July 6, 2001
People say life is everything, but I prefer reading.
July 7, 2001
A well-written life is almost as rare as a well spent one.
July 8, 2001
Summer days for me/When every leaf is on its tree.
July 9, 2001
Charm is a way of getting the answer "yes," without ever having asked a clear question.
July 10, 2001
The nation that destroys its soil destroys itself.
July 11, 2001
I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after.
July 12, 2001
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts.
July 13, 2001
The sun pours out like wine.
July 14, 2001
Life is an abnormal business.
July 15, 2001
Few things are harder to put up with than the annoyance of a good example.
July 16, 2001
Once you hear the details of a victory, it is hard to separate it from a defeat.
July 17, 2001
Nature and books belong to the eyes that see them.
July 18, 2001
The softness of the summer day [was] like an ermine paw.
July 19, 2001
I always pass on good advice. It's the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.
July 20, 2001
Some books are undeservedly forgotten: none are undeservedly remembered.
July 21, 2001
Art is science made clear.
July 22, 2001
I love the valiant; but it is not enough to wield a broadsword, one also must know against whom.
July 23, 2001
July was the month when summer, like bread in the oven, might change color, but it would rise no higher. It was at its height.
July 24, 2001
To have great poets, there must be great audiences, too.
July 25, 2001
When I play with my cat, who knows if I am not a pastime to her more than she is to me?
July 26, 2001
The sun is as dispassionate as the hand of a man who greets you with his mind on other things.
July 27, 2001
I've been on a calendar, but I've never been on time.
July 28, 2001
One learns in life to keep silent and draw one's own confusions.
July 29, 2001
The heat was like a hand in the face all day and night.
July 30, 2001
Sound loves to revel in a summer night.
July 31, 2001
Time is the longest distance between two places.