To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June.
Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hailstorm.
Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains; but, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them.
Only actions give life strength only moderation gives it charm.
Gray hairs seem to my fancy like the soft light of the moon, silvering over the evening of life.
What makes old age so sad is not that our joys but our hopes cease.
Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the longer we live, and the reason of everything appears more clear. What has puzzled us before seems less mysterious, and the crooked paths look straighter as we approach the end.
Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time.
The conscience of children is formed by the influences that surround them their notions of good and evil are the result of the moral atmosphere they breathe.
Good actions ennoble us, we are the sons of our own deeds.
Beauty attracts us men; but if, like an armed magnet it is pointed, beside, with gold and silver, it attracts with tenfold power.
God is an unutterable sigh, planted in the depths of the soul.
Courage consists not in blindly overlooking danger, but in seeing it, and conquering it.
A timid person is frightened before a danger, a coward during the time, and a courageous person afterward.
For sleep, riches and health to be truly enjoyed, they must be interrupted.
There is a joy in sorrow which none but a mourner can know.
Humanity is never so beautiful as when praying for forgiveness, or else forgiving another.
Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over our heads scarcely gray.
Strong characters are brought out by change of situation, and gentle ones by permanence.
Every man regards his own life as the New Year’s Eve of time.