Ah! The seasons of love roll not backward but onward, downward forever.

As winter strips the leaves from around us, so that we may see the distant regions they formerly concealed, so old age takes away our enjoyments only to enlarge the prospect of the coming eternity.

What a father says to his children is not heard by the world, but it will be heard by posterity.

Joys are our wings, sorrows our spurs.

Age doesn't matter, unless your cheese.

Laughing cheerfulness throws the light of day on all the paths of life.

Variety of mere nothings gives more pleasure than uniformity of something.