Flowers are the bright remembrances of youth; they waft us back, with their bland odorous breath, the joyous hours that only young life knows, ere we have learnt that this fair earth hides graves.

Spring is the season of hope, and autumn is that of memory.

A German writer observes: "The noblest characters only show themselves in their real light. All others act comedy with their fellow-men even unto the grave.

Life would be as insupportable without the prospect of death, as it would be without sleep.

Only vain people wage war against the vanity of others.

Prejudices are the chains forged by ignorance to keep men apart.

Bores: People who talk of themselves, when you are thinking only of yourself.