A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. C. S. LEWIS, Out of the Silent Planet True pleasures are paid for in advance; false pleasures afterwards, with heavy and compound interest.

Happiness is a thing to be practiced, like the violin.

Happy indeed is the naturalist: to him the seasons come round like old friends; to him the birds sing: as he walks along, the flowers stretch out from the hedges, or look up from the ground, and as each year fades away, he looks back on a fresh store of happy memories.

How little our libraries cost us as compared with our liquor cellars.

A poor woman from Manchester, on being taken to the seaside, is said to have expressed her delight on seeing for the first time something of which there was enough for everybody.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

Sunsets are so beautiful that they almost seem as if we were looking through the gates of Heaven.