I pass lightly through the reactionary darkness.

If I could I would always work in silence and obscurity, and let my efforts be known by their results.

I'm a master of speaking silently — all my life I've spoken silently and I've lived through entire tragedies in silence.

My mind is evidently so constituted that I am subconsciously forced into the path of duty without recourse to tiresome mental processes.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

In solitude, I find my answers.

I may say, without undue egotism, that when I make up my mind to do something, it is done quickly.

Fortunately for me, I know well enough what I want, and am basically utterly indifferent to the criticism that I work to hurriedly. In answer to that, I have done some things even more hurriedly theses last few days.

For the discreet among mortals are such as pass through life correctly with wisdom.

I walk slowly, but I never walk backward.

I go in silence, since my fatal words would make men weep and what I really want is solitude in which to shed my tears.

I have spoken softly, gone my ways softly, all my days, as behoves one who has nothing to say, nowhere to go, and so nothing to gain by being seen or heard.

Most mornings I get away, slip out the door before light, set forth on the dim, gray road, letting my feet find a cadence that softly carries me on. Nobody is up — all alone my journey begins.

Work hard in silence, let your success be your noise.