what are we all sent into the world for, but to be of use to each other?

Why is it that fools always have the instinct to hunt out the unpleasant secrets of life, and the hardiness to mention them?

People may go on talking for ever of the jealousies of pretty women; but for real genuine, hard-working envy, there is nothing like an ugly woman with a taste for admiration.

There is nothing so catching as refinement.

It is always so, every pleasure comes exactly half an hour too late - Life! Life!

what are we all sent into the world for, but to be of use to each other?