No one can doubt that the sufferings of the sober, virtuous woman, in legal subjection to the mastership of a drunken, immoral husband and father over herself and children, not only from physical abuse, but from spiritual shame and humiliation, must be such as the man himself can not possibly comprehend.
I shall soon be six-and-twenty. Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?
No law can possibly meet the convenience of every one: we must be satisfied if it be beneficial on the whole and to the majority.
I would say I’m a 19th-century liberal, possibly even an 18th-century one.
One becomes a grandfather and one sees the world a little differently. Certainly the world becomes a more vulnerable place when one has a grandchild, or now I have two. And I think that possibly there’s some tenderness that came out of just time and age and being a parent and grandparent.
It would be curious to discover who it is to whom one writes in a diary. Possibly to some mysterious personification of one’s own identity.
If you have an ongoing relationship with a person, think of everything positive about that person that you possibly can and enter your interaction from that space. Ignore all the crap that used to drive you up the wall before. You will be amazed at what a change this attitude shift brings about.
Every man who possibly can should force himself to a holiday of a full month in a year, whether he feels like taking it or not.
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
Americans think they’re the leader of the world and yet can say that they’re putting their economic interests ahead of the lives of – quite possibly – tens of millions of people who over the next 50 years will die because of floods or storms or tropical diseases or whatever. I guess that sort of thing makes me angry.