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Had it not been for the persistent encouragement of Miss Sullivan, I think I should have given up trying to write altogether.

Fatal is the discovery that our friend is fallible, that he has prejudices.

Our thoughts would imply that other men have friends, though we have not.

granting that we had both the will and the sense to choose our friends well, how few of us have the power! or, at least, how limited, for most, is the sphere of choice!

Men who are successful always seek the company of others who are successful, while men who are on the ragged side of life always seek the company of those who are in similar circumstances.

this vice of ingratitude has its source either in avarice or in suspicion

Now the discourse that ought to come from friends and people disposed to be helpful should be consolation, and not mere assent with a man's sad feelings.

not to find friends at a time when you want them is hard, as also not to be able to exchange an inconstant and bad friend for a constant and good one

Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions, because we have made them a texture of wine and dreams, instead of the tough fibre of the human heart.

What a perpetual disappointment is actual society, even of the virtuous and gifted!

Amongst ourselves we are unendingly cheerful, but what each man feels in his heart I can only guess.

The very flexibility and ease which make men's friendships so agreeable while they endure, make them the easier to destroy and forget.

A long life may be passed without finding a friend in whose understanding and virtue we can equally confide, and whose opinion we can value at once for its justness and sincerity.

Parents we can have but once; and he promises himself too much, who enters life with the expectation of finding many friends.

If a man stumbles, it is a good thing to help him to his feet. Every one of us needs a helping hand now and then.

The spectacle of effort is what awakens and sustains our own effort.