We Are Never Happy; We Can Only

Pride's Chickens Have Bonny Feathers, But They Are An Expensive Brood To Rear. They Eat Up Everything, And Are Always Lean When Brought To Market.

Pleasure Has No Logic; It Never Treads In Its Own Footsteps.

Winter Does Not Work Only On A Broad Scale; He Is Careful In Trifles.

There Is A Slow-growing Beauty Which Only Comes To Perfection In Old Age.... I Have Seen Sweeter Smiles On A Lip Of Seventy Than I Ever Saw On A Lip Of Seventeen. There Is The Beauty Of Youth, And There Is Also The Beauty Of Holiness—a Beauty Much More Seldom Met; And More Frequently Found In The Arm-chair By The Fire, With Grandchildren Around Its Knee, Than In The Ball-room Or The Promenade.

Happiness Never Lays Its Finger On Its Pulse. If We Attempt To Steal A Glimpse Of Its Features It Disappears.