Though it is folly to suppose that happiness is a matter of volition, and that we can make ourselves content and cheerful whenever we choose - a theory that many poor hypochondriacs are taunted with till they are nigh driven mad - yet, on the other hand, no sane mind is ever left without the power of self-discipline and self-control in a measure, which measure increases in proportion as it is exercised.

It is not work that kills, but "worry."

Those whose own light is quenched are often the light-bringers.

Why cannot one always do, not only the right thing, but at the right time?

Now, I have nothing to say against uncles in general. They are usually very excellent people, and very convenient to little boys and girls.

Human life is so full of pain, that once past the youthful delusion that a sad countenance is interesting, and an incurable woe the most delightful thing possible, the mind instinctively turns where it can get rest, and cheer and sunshine. And the friend who can bring to it the largest portion of these is, of a natural necessity, the most useful, the most welcome, and the most dear.

Be loving, and you will never want for love; be humble, and you will never want for guiding.