Great minds always tend to see virtue in misfortune.
Doubt follows white-winged hope with trembling steps.
The Parisan, sauntering the streets idly, is as often a man in despair as a lounger.
Gentleness in the gait is what simplicity is in the dress. Violent gestures or quick movements inspire involuntary disrespect.
We are scarcely apt to berate the source of enjoyment.
Events are never absolute, their outcome depends entirely upon the individual. Misfortune is a stepping stone for a genius, a piscina for a Christian, a treasure for a man of parts, and an abyss for a weakling.