It is the superfluous things for which men sweat, - superfluous things that wear our togas theadbare, that force us to grow old in camp, that dash us upon foreign shores.
Who timidly requests invites refusal.
The kind of solace that arises from having company in misery is spiteful.
...nothing is so entirely admirable as a man bravely wretched.
It is equally a fault to believe all men or to believe none.
We are at best but stewards of what we falsely call our own; yet avarice is so insatiable that it is not in the power of liberality to content it.