A man looketh on his little one as a being of better hope; in himself ambition is dead, but it bath a resurrection in his son.

If thou art master to thyself, circumstances shall harm thee little.

Hope and be happy that all's for the best!

Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger never stirreth, but that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out evil.

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

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.

None is poor but the mean in mind, the timorous, the weak, and unbelieving; none is wealthy but the affluent in soul, who is satisfied and floweth over.