It is not work that kills men; it is worry. Worry is rust upon the blade.

It's not the work which kills people, it's the worry. It's not the revolution that destroys machinery it's the friction.

Now comes the mystery. (His last words)

The real man is one who always finds excuses for others, but never excuses himself.

The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world's joy.

Hold yourself responsible for a higher standard than anybody expects of you. Never excuse yourself.