Not few nor light are the burdens of life; then load it not with heaviness of spirit.

A juggler's skill hath been long years alearning.

I have sped by land and sea, and mingled with much people, but never yet could find a spot unsunned by human kindness.

Men scanning the surface count the wicked happy; they see not the frightful dreams that crowd a bad man's pillow.

Hatred is the atmosphere of hell.

If wealth come, beware of him, the smooth, false friend! There is treachery in his proffered hand; his tongue is eloquent to tempt; lust of many harms is lurking in his eye; he hath a hollow heart; use him cautiously.

Happiness is a roadside flower growing on the highways of usefulness; plucked, it shall wither in thy hand; passed by, it is fragrance to thy spirit. Trample the thyme beneath thy feet; be useful, be happy.