What is it that confers the noblest delight? What is that which swells a man’s breast with pride above that which any other experience can bring to him? Discovery!

The human race is a race of cowards; and I am not only marching in that procession but carrying a banner.

A soiled baby, with a neglected nose, cannot be conscientiously regarded as a thing of beauty; and inasmuch as babyhood spans but three short years, no baby is competent to be a joy “forever.”

Same material, apparently; but one is vivid, brief, and can do damage.

It isn’t what a man has that constitutes wealth. No—it is to be satisfied with what one has; that is wealth.

We do not deal much in fact when we are contemplating ourselves.

You can’t pray a lie.

Unexpected money is a delight. The same sum is a bitterness when you expected more.

Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.

Habit is habit, and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time.