Happiness is always the inaccessible castle which sinks in ruin when we set foot on it.

There are two persons in the world we never see as they are,--one's self and one's other self.

The graves of those we have loved and lost distress and console as.

Up to forty a woman has only forty springs in her heart. After that age she has only forty winters.

Hope is the virgin of the ideal world, who opens beaten to as in the midst of every tempest.

Happiness is always the inaccessible castle which sinks in ruin when we set foot on it.

Women of forty always fancy they have found the Fountain of Youth, and that they remain young in the midst of the ruins of their day.