“A man's true state of power and riches is to be in himself.”
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There are joys which long to be ours. God sends ten thousands truths, which come about us like birds seeking inlet but we are shut up to them, and so they bring us nothing, but sit and sing awhile upon the roof, and then fly away.
In this world, full often, our joys are only the tender shadows which our sorrows cast.
There is no friendship, no love, like that of the parent for the child.
It's not the work which kills people, it's the worry. It's not the revolution that destroys machinery it's the friction.
