Not perhaps until later life, until the follies, passions, and selfishness of youth have died out, do we . . . recognize the the inestimable blessing, the responsibility awful as sweet, of possessing or of being a friend.

never was there a thoroughly noble nature without some romance in it.

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

Ethics, as has been well said, are the finest fruits of humanity, but they are not its roots

We expect too much from our children. We exact from them a perfection which we are far from carrying out in ourselves; we require of them sacrifices much heavier, comparatively, than those of any grown-up person.

When the ship is going down we trouble ourselves little enough about the style of the cabin furniture.

With faces like dead lovers who died true.