... one's own faults are always a heavy chain to drag through life and one can't help groaning under the weight now and then.
To the old, sorrow is sorrow; to the young, it is despair.
Appearances have very little to do with happiness.
Little children are still the symbol of the eternal marriage between love and duty.
Upon my word, I think the truth is the hardest missile one can be pelted with.
One couldn't carry on life comfortably without a little blindness to the fact that everything has been said better than we can put it ourselves.