The secret of happiness is to admire without desiring. And that is not happiness.

Our live experiences, fixed in aphorisms, stiffen into cold epigrams. Our heart's blood, as we write it, turns to mere dull ink.

One said of suicide, 'As long as one has brains one should not blow them out.' And another answered, 'But when one has ceased to have them, too often one canno…

We say that a girl with her doll anticipates the mother. It is more true, perhaps, that most mothers are still but children with playthings.

The man whose silent days In harmless joys are spent, Whom hopes cannot delude, Nor sorrow discontent: That man needs neither towers Nor armour for defence, No…

There may be Peace without Joy, and Joy without Peace, but the two combined make Happiness.

Happy people die whole, they are all dissolved in a moment, they have had what they wanted