We are rather apt to consider an act wrong because it is unpleasant to us.

Falsehood is so easy, truth so difficult. Even with no motive to be false, it is very hard to say the exact truth.

It is pleasant to have a kind word now and then when one is not near enough to have a kind glance or a hearty shake by the hand.

Vanity is as ill at ease under indifference as tenderness is under a love which it cannot return.

Play not with paradoxes. That caustic which you handle in order to scorch others may happen to sear your own fingers and make them dead to the quality of things.

Melodies die out, like the pipe of Pan, with the ears that love them and listen for them.

Blessed is the man, who having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact.