Some would find fault with the morning, if they ever got up early enough.. The fault find faults even in Paradise.

The intellect of most men is barren. They neither fertilize or are fertilized. It is the marriage of the soul with nature that makes the intellect fruitful, that gives birth to imagination...without nature-awakened imagination most persons do not really live in the world, they merely pass through it as they live dull lives of quiet desperation.

A journal, is a book that shall contain a record of all your joy, your ecstasy, what you are grateful for.

I am grateful for what I have. My thanksgiving is perpetual.

It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see - i.e. compare it to, something worse or better, that determines whether you are respectively grateful and happy or ungrateful and bitter.

We are always paid for our suspicion by finding what we suspect. [So why not suspect good rather than bad in events, people and life and thereby find it more?]

The prosaic man sees things badly, or with the bodily sense; but the poet sees them clad in beauty, with the spiritual sense.

The fault finder will find faults even in paradise and thereby miss the joys that recognition of the positives bring.