We are more conscious that a person is in the wrong when the wrong concerns ourselves.
Lofty mountains are full of springs; great hearts are full of tears.
Friendship admits of difference of character, as love does that of sex.
Evil often triumphs, but never conquers.
Experience comprises illusions lost, rather than wisdom gained.
We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.