This eBook was produced by David Widger [widger@cecomet.net]

THE INK STAIN

By Rene Bazin

All that a name is to a street--its honor, its spouse

Came not in single spies, but in battalions

Distrust first impulse

Felix culpa

Happy men don't need company

Hard that one can not live one's life over twice

He always loved to pass for being overwhelmed with work

I don't call that fishing

If trouble awaits us, hope will steal us a happy hour or two

Lends--I should say gives

Men forget sooner

Natural only when alone, and talk well only to themselves

Obstacles are the salt of all our joys

One doesn't offer apologies to a man in his wrath

People meeting to "have it out" usually say nothing at first

Silence, alas! is not the reproof of kings alone

Skilful actor, who apes all the emotions while feeling none

Sorrows shrink into insignificance as the horizon broadens

Surprise goes for so much in what we admire

The very smell of books is improving

The looks of the young are always full of the future

There are some blunders that are lucky; but you can't tell

To be your own guide doubles your pleasure

You a law student, while our farmers are in want of hands

You must always first get the tobacco to burn evenly

You ask Life for certainties, as if she had any to give you