A brave soul is a thing which all things serve.

If you wish to preserve your secret, wrap it up in frankness.

Men and women make their own beauty or their own ugliness. Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton speaks in one of his novels of a man "who was uglier than he had any business to be;" and, if we could but read it, every human being carries his life in his face, and is good-looking or the reverse as that life has been good or evil. On our features the fine chisels of thought and emotion are eternally at work.

A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.

A man does not plant a tree for himself; he plants it for posterity.

Every day travels toward death; the last only arrives at it.

Winter does not work only on a broad scale; he is careful in trifles.