When a man comes to me for advice, I find out the kind of advice he wants, and I give it to him.
Common sense is instinct, and enough of it is genius.
Society is composed of slow Christians and wide-awake sinners.
Fuss is half-sister to hurry, and neither of them can do anything without getting in their own way.
Advice is like castor oil — easy enough to give but dreadful hard to take.
I do not know of a better cure for sorrow than to pity somebody else.