by Mark Twain
It is more trouble to make a maxim than it is to do right.
A dozen direct censures are easier to bear than one morganatic compliment.
Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg cackles as if she had laid an asteroid.
He was as shy as a newspaper is when referring to its own merits.
Truth is the most valuable thing we have. Let us economize it.
It could probably be shown by facts and figures that there is no distinctly native American criminal class except Congress.
It is your human environment that makes climate.
Everything human is pathetic. The secret source of Humor itself is not joy but sorrow. There is no humor in heaven.
We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it—and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove-lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove-lid again, and that is well; but also she will never sit down on a cold one any more.
There are those who scoff at the school-boy, calling him frivolous and shallow. Yet it was the school-boy who said, “Faith is believing what you know ain’t so.”
The timid man yearns for full value and demands a tenth. The bold man strikes for double value and compromises on par.
We can secure other people’s approval if we do right and try hard, but our own is worth a hundred of it and no way has been found out of securing that.
Truth is stranger than Fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t.
There is a Moral Sense and there is an Immoral Sense. History shows us that the Moral Sense enables us to perceive morality and how to avoid it, and that the Immoral Sense enables us to perceive immorality and how to enjoy it.
The English are mentioned in the Bible: Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
It is easier to stay out than get out.
Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead.
It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudence never to practise either of them.
Man will do many things to get himself loved, he will do all things to get himself envied.
Be careless in your dress if you must but keep a tidy soul.
There is no such thing as “the Queen’s English.” The property has gone into the hands of a joint stock company and we own the bulk of the shares.
“Classic.” A book which people praise and don’t read.
There are people who can do all fine and heroic things but one: keep from telling their happinesses to the unhappy.
Man is the Only Animal that blushes. Or needs to.
The universal brotherhood of man is our most precious possession, what there is of it.
Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed.
When people do not respect us we are sharply offended; yet deep down in his private heart no man much respects himself.
Nature makes the locust with an appetite for crops; man would have made him with an appetite for sand.
The spirit of wrath—not the words—is the sin; and the spirit of wrath is cursing. We begin to swear before we can talk.
The man with a new idea is a Crank until the idea succeeds.
Let us be grateful to Adam our benefactor. He cut us out of the “blessing” of idleness and won for us the “curse” of labor.
The Autocrat of Russia possesses more power than any other man in the earth, but he cannot stop a sneeze.
There are several good protections against temptations but the surest is cowardice.
To succeed in the other trades, capacity must be shown; in the law, concealment of it will do.
Prosperity is the best protector of principle.
By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity. Another man‘s, I mean.
Few of us can stand prosperity. Another man‘s, I mean.
There is an old-time toast which is golden for its beauty, “When you ascend the hill of prosperity may you not meet a friend.”
Each person is born to one possession which outvalues all his others—his last breath.
Hunger is the handmaid of genius.
The old saw says, “Let a sleeping dog lie.” Right. Still, when there is much at stake it is better to get a newspaper to do it.
It takes your enemy and your friend, working together, to hurt you to the heart, the one to slander you and the other to get the news to you.
If the desire to kill and the opportunity to kill came always together, who would escape hanging?
Simple rules for saving money: To save half, when you are fired by an eager impulse to contribute to a charity, wait and count forty. To save three-quarters, count sixty. To save it all, count sixty-five.
Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with.
He had had much experience of physicians, and said “the only way to keep your health is to eat what you don’t want, drink what you don’t like, and do what you’d druther not.”
The man who is ostentatious of his modesty is twin to the statue that wears a fig-leaf.
Let me make the superstitions of a nation and I care not who makes its laws or its songs either.
True irreverence is disrespect for another man’s god.
Do not undervalue the headache. While it is at its sharpest it seems a bad investment, but when relief begins the unexpired remainder is worth four dollars a minute.
There are eight hundred and sixty-nine different forms of lying, but only one of them has been squarely forbidden. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
There are two times in a man’s life when he should not speculate: when he can’t afford it and when he can.
She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.
Make it a point to do something every day that you don’t want to do. This is the golden rule for acquiring the habit of doing your duty without pain.
Don’t part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist but you have ceased to live.
Often, the surest way to convey misinformation is to tell the strict truth.
SATAN (impatiently) to NEW-COMER. The trouble with you Chicago people is that you think you are the best people down here, whereas you are merely the most numerous.
In the first place God made idiots. This was for practice. Then He made School Boards.
When your watch gets out of order you have choice of two things to do: throw it in the fire or take it to the watch-tinker. The former is the quickest.
In statesmanship get the formalities right, never mind about the moralities.
Every one is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.
First catch your Boer, then kick him.
The very ink with which all history is written is merely fluid prejudice.
There isn’t a Parallel of Latitude but thinks it would have been the Equator if it had had its rights.
I have traveled more than any one else and I have noticed that even the angels speak English with an accent.
1897
The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg
I
It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty could have every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of their very b
one. The neighboring towns were jealous of this honorable supremacy, and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and call it vanity; but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal town to seek for responsible employment.
But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend a passing stranger—possibly without knowing it, certainly without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make an exception in this one’s case, for he was a bitter man and revengeful. All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping enough; the poorest of them would hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a plan which would comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one person escape unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at once, saying to himself, “That is the thing to do—I will corrupt the town.”
Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice said “Come in,” and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlor, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading the Missionary Herald by the lamp:
“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There—now it is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see your husband a moment, madam?”
No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning.
“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. Good-night, madam.”
The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows:
“To BE PUBLISHED; or, the right man sought out by private inquiry—either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a hundred and sixty pounds four ounces—”
“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!”
Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper:
“I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one of her citizens—a citizen of Hadleyburg—I am especially grateful for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses, in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I was. I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a penny. I asked for help—in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars—that is to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded that he will remember it.
“And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, ‘I am the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the test—to wit: open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly the right man.
“But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present writing in the local paper—with these instructions added, to wit: Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and see if the remark is correct; if correct, let the money be delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified.”
Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon lost in thinkings—after this pattern: “What a strange thing it is! ... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the waters! ... If it had only been my husband that did it!—for we are so poor, so old and poor! ...” Then, with a sigh—“But it was not my Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; I see it now....” Then, with a shudder—“But it is gambler’s money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t take it; we couldn’t touch it. I don’t like to be near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a farther chair.... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone with it.”
At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying, “I am so glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I’m so tired—tired clear out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary—another man’s slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable.”
“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we have our livelihood; we have our good name—”
“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind my talk—it’s just a moment’s irritation and doesn’t mean anything. Kiss me—there, it’s all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? What’s in the sack?”
Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; then he said:
“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s for-ty thou-sand dollars—think of it—a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are worth that much. Give me the paper.”
He skimmed through it and said:
“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; it’s like the impossible things one reads about in books, and never sees in life.” He was well stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the cheek, and said, humorously, “Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What is this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and—”
“And in the mean time, while you are running on with your jokes, the money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.”
“True. Very well, what shall we do—make the inquiry private? No, not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. Think what a noise it will make! And it wil
l make all the other towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s a great card for us. I must get to the printing-office now, or I shall be too late.”
