It is astonishing what a lot of odd minutes one can catch during the day, if one really sets about it.

An author departs; he does not die.

There is no sorrow under heaven which is, or ought to be, endless. To believe or to make it so, is an insult to Heaven itself.

Happiness is not an end - it is only a means, and adjunct, a consequence.

One cannot make oneself, but one can sometimes help a little in the making of somebody else. It is well.

absence ... smothers into decay a rootless fancy but often nourishes the least seed of a true affection into full-flowering love.

there is nothing so absolute as the tyranny of weakness.