There are souls in this world which have the gift of finding joy everywhere and of leaving it behind them when they go.
Memory, wit, fancy, acuteness, cannot grow young again in old age, but the heart can.
The look of a king is itself a deed.
It is easier and handier for men to flatter than to praise.
Laughing cheerfulness throws the light of day on all the paths of life.
What makes old age so sad is, not that our joys, but that our hopes then cease.