Each departed friend is a magnet that attracts us to the next world.

We learn our virtues from our friends who love us; our faults from the enemy who hates us. We cannot easily discover our real character from a friend. He is a mirror, on which the warmth of our breath impedes the clearness of the reflection.

Men, like bullets, go farthest when they are smoothest.

It is easy to flatter; it is harder to praise.

There is a joy in sorrow which none but a mourner can know.

Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time.

The happiness of life consists, like the day, not in single flashes (of light), but in one continuous mild serenity. The most beautiful period of the heart's existence is in this calm equable light, even although it be only moonshine or twilight. Now the mind alone can obtain for us this heavenly cheerfulness and peace.