Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of human life
Every man's road in life is marked by the graves of his personal liking.
Death takes away the commonplace of life.
Every man's road in life is marked by the grave of his personal likings.
We have two lives; The soul of man is like the rolling world, One half in day, the other dipt in night; The one has music and the flying cloud, The other, silence and the wakeful stars.
The world is not so much in need of new thoughts as that when thought grows old and worn with usage it should, like current coin, be called in, and, from the mint of genius, reissued fresh and new.