To whom, then, must I dedicate my wonderful, surprising and interesting adventures? to whom dare I reveal my private opinion of my nearest relations? the secret thoughts of my dearest friends? my own hopes, fears, reflections and dislikes? Nobody!

I am ashamed of confessing that I have nothing to confess.

Traveling is the ruin of all happiness! There's no looking at a building after seeing Italy.

For my part, I confess I seldom listen to the players: one has so much to do, in looking about and finding out one's acquaintance, that, really, one has no time to mind the stage. One merely comes to meet one's friends, and show that one's alive.

We all find joy and radiance and a reason to move on even in the most dire of circumstances. Even in chaos and madness, there's still a beauty that comes from just the vibrancy of another human spirit.

Happiness is the freedom of choice. The freedom to choose where to live, what to do, what to buy, what to sell, from whom, to whom, when and how.

There are as many kinds of beauty as there are habitual ways of seeking happiness.

Our happiness is certainly mixed in with the tragedies of life. You have to find the lemonade. You have to find the silver lining in the middle of everything that happens in life.