In every part and corner of our life, to lose oneself is to be a gainer; to forget oneself is to be happy.

All human beings are commingled out of good and evil.

Books are good enough in their own way, but they are a poor substitute for life.

Had be been Shakespeare, he would then have written Troilus and Cressidato brand the offending sex; but being only a little dog, he began to bite them.

Although I may express myself with some degree of pleasantry the purport of my words is entirely serious.

The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

A horrible sense of blackness and the treachery of fate seized hold upon the soul of the unhappy student.