How happy are the pessimists! What joy is theirs when they have proved there is no joy.
Wit is an intermittent fountain; kindness is a perennial spring.
Genius points the way, talent takes it.
When the time comes in which one could, the time has passed in which one can.
New happiness too must be learned to bear.
The understanding of some men is clear, that of others brilliant. The former illumines its surroundings; the latter obscures them.