Marriage enlarges the scene of our happiness and of our miseries. A marriage of love is pleasant, of interest, easy, read more

Marriage enlarges the scene of our happiness and of our miseries. A marriage of love is pleasant, of interest, easy, and where both meet, happy. A happy marriage has in it all the pleasures of friendship, all the enjoyments of sense and reason, and,

Grim-visaged, comfortless despair.

Grim-visaged, comfortless despair.

But O yet more miserable!
Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.

But O yet more miserable!
Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.

The comfort derived from the misery of others is slight.
[Lat., Levis est consolatio ex miseria aliorum.]

The comfort derived from the misery of others is slight.
[Lat., Levis est consolatio ex miseria aliorum.]

The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of read more

The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same.

The wretched hasten to hear of their own miseries.
[Lat., Miserias properant suas
Audire miseri.]

The wretched hasten to hear of their own miseries.
[Lat., Miserias properant suas
Audire miseri.]

Meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop read more

Meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuffed, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
Were thinly scattered, to make up a show.

A misery is not to be measured from the nature of the evil, but from the temper of the sufferer.

A misery is not to be measured from the nature of the evil, but from the temper of the sufferer.

The worst of misery
Is when a nature framed for noblest things
Condemns itself in youth to read more

The worst of misery
Is when a nature framed for noblest things
Condemns itself in youth to petty joys,
And, sore athirst for air, breathes scanty life
Gasping from out the shallows.