A Wise Traveler Never Despises His Own

If Our Hours Were All Serene, We Might Probably Take Almost As Little Note Of Them As The Dial Does Of Those That Are Clouded.

The Vain Man Makes A Merit Of Misfortune, And Triumphs In His Disgrace.

The Confession Of Our Failings Is A Thankless Office. It Savors Less Of Sincerity Or Modesty Than Of Ostentation. It Seems As If We Thought Our Weaknesses As Good As Other People's Virtues.

Well I've Had A Happy Life.

A Gentle Word, A Kind Look, A Good-natured Smile Can Work Wonders And Accomplish Miracles.