What man thinks of changing himself so as to suit his wife?

I doubt whether I ever read any description of scenery which gave me an idea of the place described.

Nobody holds a good opinion of a man who has a low opinion of himself.

There is no human bliss equal to twelve hours of work with only six hours in which to do it.

There is no happiness in love, except at the end of an English novel.

This habit of reading, I make bold to tell you, is your pass to the greatest, the purest, and the most perfect pleasure that God has prepared for His creatures. It lasts when all other pleasures fade. It will support you when all other recreations are gone. It will last until your death. It will make your hours pleasant to you as long as you live.

It is hard to conceive that the old, whose thoughts have been all thought out, should ever love to live alone. Solitude is surely for the young, who have time before them for the execution of schemes, and who can, therefore, take delight in thinking