It is a curious truth - and yet a truth forced upon us by daily observation - that it is not the women who have suffered most who are the unhappy women. A state of permanent unhappiness - not the morbid, half-cherished melancholy of youth, which generally wears off with wiser years, but that settled, incurable discontent and dissatisfaction with all things and all people, which we see in some women, is, with very rare exceptions, at once the index and the exponent of a thoroughly selfish character.

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

Down in the deep, up in the sky , I see them always, far or nigh, And I shall see them till I die The old familiar faces.

There can be - there ought to be - no medium course; a love-affair is either sober earnest or contemptible folly, if not wickedness: to gossip about it is, in the first instance, intrusive, unkind, or dangerous; in the second, simply silly.

How the sting of poverty, or small means, is gone when one keeps house for one's own comfort and not for the comfort of one's neighbors.

We have not to construct human nature afresh, but to take it as we find it, and make the best of it.

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