... what a fatal thing in pictures, books, or human lives, is a lack of proportion.

Our natural and happiest life is when we lose ourselves in the exquisite absorption of home, the delicious retirement of dependent love.

the worst times come to an end if you can only wait long enough.

It may often be noticed, the less virtuous people are, the more they shrink away from the slightest whiff of the odour of un-sanctity. The good are ever the most charitable, the pure are the most brave.

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

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.

A person who is careless about money is careless about everything, and untrustworthy in everything.