Life is a mixed blessing, which we vainly try to unmix.
The next thing to having wisdom ourselves, is to profit by that of others.
True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it is lost.
Money is the most envied, but the least enjoyed. Health is the most enjoyed, but the least envied.
Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past, even while we attempt to define it.
Wealth after all is a relative thing since he that has little and wants less is richer than he that has much and wants more.
He that is good will infallibly become better, and he that is bad will as certainly become worse; for vice, virtue, and time are three things that never stand still.
Why we play as children is not because it is our work or because it is how we learn, though both statements are true; we play because we are wired for joy, it is imperative as human beings.
All that we behold is full of blessings.
The glories of our blood and state, Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings. Scepter and crown must tumble down, And, in the dust, be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Illusions are art, for the feeling person, and it is by art that we live, if we do.