There is yet a silent agony in which the mind appears to disdain all external help, and broods over its distresses with gloomy reserve. This is the most dangerous state of mind; accidents or friendships may lessen the louder kinds of grief, but all remedies for this must be had from within, and there despair too often finds the most deadly enemy.

Wealth accumulates, and men decay.

The nakedness of the indigent world may be clothed from the trimmings of the vain.

As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure; but there's no love lost between us.

All that a husband or wife really wants is to be pitied a little, praised a little, and appreciated a little.

Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man.

Error is ever talkative.