This quote is written / told by Henry Brooks Adams between February 16, 1838 and March 27, 1918. He/she was a famous author.
The author also have 9 other quotes.
"My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane"
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time"