What man is there that does not laboriously, though all unconsciously, himself fashion the sorrow that is to be the pivot of his life.
When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.
To be happy is only to have freed one's soul from the unrest of unhappiness.
No great inner event befalls those who summon it not.
How strangely do we diminish a thing as soon as we try to express it in words.
Remember that happiness is as contagious as gloom. It should be the first duty of those who are happy to let others know of their gladness.