There is nothing that will kill a man so soon as having nobody to find fault with but himself.

To have suffered much is like knowing many languages. Thou hast learned to understand all.

There are many victories worse than a defeat.

Every year strips us of at least one vain expectation, and teaches us to reckon some solid good in its stead.

But most of us are apt to settle within ourselves that the man who blocks our way is odious, and not to mind causing him a little of the disgust which his personality excites in ourselves.

Our selfishness is so robust and many-clutching that, well encouraged, it easily devours all sustenance away from our poor little scruples.

We are contented with our day when we have been able to bear our grief in silence, and act as if we were not suffering.