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

Nothing but a speck we seem In the waste of waters round, Floating, floating like a dream, Outward bound.

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

Happiness! Can any human being undertake to define it for another?

If I had to write a book, I could not find anything in the world worth saying - as is indeed the case with many voluminous authors.

Do your neighbour good by all means in your power, moral as well as physical - by kindness, by patience, by unflinching resistance against every outward evil - by the silent preaching of your own contrary life. But if the only good you can do him is by talking at him, or about him - nay, even to him, if it be in a self-satisfied, super-virtuous style - such as I earnestly hope the present writer is not doing - you had much better leave him alone.

It is not the smallest use to try to make people good, unless you try at the same time - and they feel that you are trying - to make them happy. And you rarely can make another happy, unless you are happy yourself.