Pardon me, my friends, I have ventured to paint my happiness on the wall.

A thinker sees his own actions as experiments and questions - as attempts to find out something. Success and failure are for him answers above all.

But let us not forget this either: it is enough to create new names and estimations and probabilities in order to create in the long run new 'things.'

Even the most beautiful scenery is no longer assured of our love after we have lived in it for three months, and some distant coast attracts our avarice: posse…

In every adversity of fortune, to have been happy is the most unhappy kind of misfortune.

Who hath so entire happiness that he is not in some part offended with the condition of his estate?

Most of us don't know about happiness until it's over.