misery

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born. Every Morn and every Night Some are born to Sweet Delight, Some are born to Endless Night.

In the hours of distress and misery, the eyes of every mortal turn to friendship; in the hours of gladness and conviviality, what is our want? It is friendship. When the heart overflows with gratitude, or with any other sweet or sacred sentiment, what is the word to which it would give utterance? A friend.

One must have a mind of winter to regard the frost and the boughs of the pine trees, crusted with snow, And have been cold a long time, to behold the junipers, shagged with ice, the spruces, rough in the distant glitter of the January sun, and not to think of any misery in the sound of the wind, in the sound of a few leaves, which is the sound of the land, full of the same wind, blowing in the same bare place for the listener, who listens in the snow, and, nothing herself, beholds nothing that is not there, and the nothing that is.

If you're interested in misery, 1- always try to look good in front of others; 2- always live in a world of assumptions and treat each assumption as though it's a reality; 3- relate to every new situation as if it is a small crisis; 4- always live in the future or the past; and 5- occasionally stomp on yourself for being so dumb as to follow the first four rules.

In this world of misery, disease, old age, and death, there is no other protection, refuge or help than our own practice of the truth. Others are powerless; as we sow we reap.

No man leaves the world in all things as he finds it. The way of life which he was instrumental in forging may go on from century to century as forces for good or evil, doing their work of happiness or misery, blessing or cursing that area that has now lost all record of his memory.

Public money ought to be touched with the most scrupulous conscientiousness of honor. It is not the produce of riches only, but of the hard earnings of labor and poverty. It is drawn even from the bitterness of want and misery. Not a beggar passes, or perishes in the streets, whose mite is not in that mass.

In misery's darkest cavern known, His useful care was ever nigh Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, And lonely want retir'd to die.

Depend upon it that if a man talks of his misfortunes there is something in them that is not disagreeable to him; for where there is nothing but pure misery there never is any recourse to the mention of it.