It is always the simple that produces the marvelous.

what is unreasonable is irrefutable.

When a man has calamity upon calamity the world generally concludes that he must be a very wicked man to deserve them. Perhaps the world is right; but it is also just possible that the world ... may be wrong.

... trouble of all kinds is voluble, and has plenty of words, but happiness was never written down.

I wear the key of memory, and can open every door in the house of my life.

This world is run with far too tight a rein for luck to interfere. Fortune sells her wares; she never gives them. In some form or other, we pay for her favors; or we go empty away.

But what do we know of the heart nearest to our own? What do we know of our own heart?