Pain, thou art not an evil

Your life story is a novel; and people, though they love novels wound between two yellow paper covers, are oddly suspicious of those which come to them in living vellum.

...joy takes a strange effect at times, it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow.

There are misfortunes in life that no one will accept; people would rather believe in the supernatural and the impossible.

Business? It's quite simple; it's other people's money.

Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness? — why, we cannot tell. It is a chain of recollections — an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places — which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place.

Mastery of language affords one remarkable opportunities.