John still has a nasty cold and hasn't a thought for me. Almost every time I see him, he manages to hurt me. Why should I put up with it? Why is it I don't tell him when he does it? Doesn't he realized it?
Henry Van Dyke is one of the few philosophers I've met who isn't a pessimist. He is a real joy.
"Joy is just as much a duty as is beneficence." "The only philosophy that amounts to anything, after all, is the secret of making friends with our own luck."