Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hailstorm.

The happiness of life consists, like the day, not in single flashes (of light), but in one continuous mild serenity. The most beautiful period of the heart's existence is in this calm equable light, even although it be only moonshine or twilight. Now the mind alone can obtain for us this heavenly cheerfulness and peace.

There are souls in this world which have the gift of finding joy everywhere and of leaving it behind them when they go.

What makes old age so sad is not that our joys but our hopes cease.