Mark Twain
novelist · Missouri, USA · Connecticut · 1835–1910
Mississippi riverboat pilot, miner and newspaperman turned novelist. His real name was Samuel Clemens. In old age his companions were cats and billiards.
Posts
1894
The holy passion of Friendship is of so sweet and steady and loyal and enduring a nature that it will last through a whole lifetime, if not asked to lend money.
Pudd'nhead Wilson, epigraph to chapter 8, from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
1894
Habit is habit, and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time.
Pudd'nhead Wilson, epigraph to chapter 6, from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
1894
When angry, count four; when very angry, swear.
Pudd'nhead Wilson, a chapter epigraph from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
1894
Few things are harder to put up with than the annoyance of a good example.
Pudd'nhead Wilson, a chapter epigraph from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
1894
Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.
Pudd'nhead Wilson, a chapter epigraph from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
1894
Training is everything. The peach was once a bitter almond; cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education.
Pudd'nhead Wilson, a chapter epigraph from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
1897
Grief can take care of itself; but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with.
Following the Equator, epigraph to chapter 48, from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar"
1897
Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.
Following the Equator, epigraph to chapter 52, from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar"
1897
Every one is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.
Following the Equator, epigraph to chapter 66, from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar"
1897
Truth is the most valuable thing we have. Let us economize it.
Following the Equator, epigraph to chapter 7, from "Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar"
October 2, 1908 · About the kittens of his cat Tammany
One of them likes to be crammed into a corner-pocket of the billiard table--which he fits as snugly as does a finger in a glove and then he watches the game (and obstructs it) by the hour, and spoils many a shot by putting out his paw and changing the direction of a passing ball.
Letter to Mrs. Patterson
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