It Is Only The Women Whose Eyes

For In All The World There Are No People So Piteous And Forlorn As Those Who Are Forced To Eat The Bitter Bread Of Dependency In Their Old Age, And Find How Steep Are The Stairs Of Another Man's House. Wherever They Go They Know Themselves Unwelcome. Wherever They Are, They Feel Themselves A Burden. There Is No Humiliation Of The Spirit They Are Not Forced To Endure. Their Hearts Are Scarred All Over With The Stabs From Cruel And Callous Speeches.

The Price Of Indulging Yourself In Your Youth In The Things You Cannot Afford Is Poverty And Dependence In Your Old Age.

Confession Is Always Weakness. The Grave Soul Keeps Its Own Secrets, And Takes Its Own Punishment In Silence.

It Is A Queer Thing, But Imaginary Troubles Are Harder To Bear Than Actual Ones.

The Comfortable And Comforting People Are Those Who Look Upon The Bright Side Of Life; Gathering Its Roses And Sunshine And Making The Most That Happens Seem The Best.