henry ford didn’t always pay attention in school. one day ,he and a friend took a watch apart. angry and upset, the teacher told him both to stay after school. their punishment was to stay until they had fixed the watch. but the teacher did not know young ford’s genius. in ten minutes, this mechanical wizard had repaired the watch and was on this way home..

  ford was always interested in how things worked. he once plugged up the spout of a teapot and placed it on the fire. then he waited to see what would happen. the water boiled and, of course, turned to steam. since the steam had no way to escape, the teapot exploded. the explosion cracked a mirror and broke a window. the young inventor was badly scalded

  ford’s year of curiosity and tinkering paid off. he dreamed of a horseless carriage. when he built one, the world of transportation was changed forever.





  however mean your life is,meet it and live it ;do not shun it and call it hard names.it is not so bad as you are.it looks poorest when you are richest.the fault-finder will find faults in paradise.love your life,poor as it is.you may perhaps have some pleasant,thrilling,glorious hourss,even in a poor-house.the setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms-house as brightly as from the rich man's abode;the snow melts before its door as early in the spring.i do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there,and have as cheering thoughts,as in a palace.the town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any.may be they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving.most think that they are above being supported by the town;but it often happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means.which should be more disreputable.cultivate poverty like a garden herb,like sage.do not trouble yourself much to get new things,whether clothes or friends,turn the old,return to them.things do not change;we change.sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.



  a country maid was walking along with a can of milk upon her head,when she fell into the following train of reflections."the money for which i shall sell this milk will enable me to increase my stock of eggs to three hundred,these eggs,allowing for what may prove addle,and what may be destroyed by vermin,will produce at least two hundred and fifty chickens.the chickens will be fit to carry to market just at the time when poultry is always dear;so that by the new year i cannot fail of having money enough to purchase a new gown.green-let me consider-yes,green becomes my complexion best .and green it shall be, in this dress i will go to the fair,where all young fellows will strive to have me for a parter;but no-i shall refuse every one of them,and with a disdainful toss turn from them."

  transported with this idea,she could not forbear acting with her head the thought that passed in her mind,when down came the can of milk!and all her imaginary happiness vanished in a moment.




  Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

  Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease.

  This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.

  Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.

  Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonders, the unfailing appetite for what’s next and the joy of the game of living.

  In the center of your heart and my heart, there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, courage and power from man and from the infinite, so long as you are young.

  When your aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you’ve grown old, even at 20; but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there’s hope you may die young at 80.







  The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

  It rains, and the wind is never weary;

  The vine still clings to the moldering wall,

  But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

  And the day is dark and dreary.

  My life is cold and dark and dreary;

  It rains and the wind is never weary;

  My though still cling to the moldering past,

  But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

  And the days are dark and dreary.

  Be still, sad heart! And cease repining;

  Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

  Thy fate is the common fate of all,

  Into each life some rain must fall,

  Some days must be dark and dreary.