To the truly benevolent mind, indeed, nothing is more satisfactory than to hear of a miser denying himself the necessaries of life a little too far and ridding us of his presence altogether.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
There is something feeble and a little contemptible about a man who cannot face the perils of life without the help of comfortable myths.
The man who is gloomy, taciturn and lives in a world of doubt seldom achieves more than a bare living. There have been a few who have groaned their way through to a competence, but in proportion to that overwhelming number of souls who carry cheer through life, they are as nothing - mere drops in the bucket.
There is nothing more tragic than to find an individual bogged down in the length of life, devoid of breadth.
He who asks of life nothing but the improvement of his own nature... is less liable than anyone else to miss and waste life.
The miser, starving his brother's body, starves also his own soul, and at death shall creep out of his great estate of injustice, poor and naked and miserable.
It may offend us to hear our own thoughts expressed by others: we are not sure enough of their souls.
To deprive a man of his natural liberty and to deny to him the ordinary amenities of life is worse then starving the body; it is starvation of the soul, the dweller in the body.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
This great misfortune - to be incapable of solitude.
With no matter what human being, taken individually, I always find reasons for concluding that sorrow and misfortune do not suit him; either because he seems too mediocre for anything so great, or, on the contrary, too precious to be destroyed.