For what is history, but... huge libel on human nature, to which we industriously add page after page, volume after volume, as if we were holding up a monument to the honor, rather than the infamy of our species.

A kind heart is a fountain of gladness, making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles.

The youthful freshness of a blameless heart.

Enthusiasts soon understand each other.

A mother is the truest friend we have.

There is no character in the comedy of human life more difficult to play well than that of an old bachelor.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.