Animals are such agreeable friends; they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms.

A prig is a fellow who is always making you a present of his opinions.

Blessed is the man, who having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact.

Cruelty, like every other vice, requires no motive outside of itself; it only requires opportunity.

Hatred is like fire -- it makes even light rubbish deadly.

He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.

I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved; the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave.

It is never to late to be what you might have been.

It is never too late to be what you might have been.

It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.

Nothing is so good as it seems beforehand.

One must be poor to know the luxury of giving.

Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.

Perhaps the most delightful friendships are those in which there is much agreement, much disputation, and yet more personal liking.

That quiet mutual gaze of a trusting husband and wife is like the first moment of rest or refuge from a great weariness or a great danger.

The desire to conquer is itself a sort of subjection.

Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles. What do we live for if not to make the world less difficult for each other?

What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?

When death, that great reconciler has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity.