One may have been a fool, but there's no foolishness like being bitter.
Home ought to be our clearinghouse, the place from which we go forth lessoned and disciplined, and ready for life.
When you are unhappy, is there anything more maddening than to be told that you should be contented with your lot?
In middle age we are apt to reach the horrifying conclusion that all sorrow, all pain, all passionate regret and loss and bitter disillusionment are self-made.
Peace - that was the other name for home.
Over and over again mediocrity is promoted because real worth isn't to be found.
There is no solitude in the world like that of the big city.