It is little men know of women; their smiles and their tears alike are seldom what they seem.

Solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry and turmoil of life; we receive counsels and comforts, we get under no other condition.

Spiritual favors are not always to be looked for, and not always to be relied on.

Death is like the setting of the sun. The sun never sets; life never ceases. ... we think the sun sets, and it never ceases shining; we think our friends die, and they never cease living.

... how poorly do we love even those whom we love most! We are not only bruised by the limitations of their love for us, but also by the limitations of our own love for them.

In all troublous events we may find comfort, though it be only in the negative admission that things might have been worse.

Once suspicion is aroused, every thing feeds it.