Sorrow Is Brief But Joy Is Endless

We Can Never Replace A Friend. When A Man Is Fortunate Enough To Have Several, He Finds They Are All Different. No One Has A Double In Friendship.

No Greater Grief Than To Remember Days Of Gladness When Sorrow Is At Hand.

History, Insofar As It Accustoms Human Beings To Comprehend The Whole Of The Past And To Hasten Forward With Its Conclusions Into The Far Future, Conceals The Boundaries Of Birth And Death, Which Enclose The Life Of The Human Being So Narrowly And Oppressively, And With A Kind Of Optical Illusion, Expands His Short Existence Into Endless Space, Leading The Individual Imperceptibly Over Into Humanity.

One Drop Of Hatred Left In The Cup Of Joy Turns The Most Blissful Draught Into Poison.

It Is Not The Mere Station Of Life That Stamps The Value On Us, But The Manner In Which We Act Our Part.