There Are Only Two Bad

Subduing And Subdued, The Petty Strife, Which Clouds The Colour Of Domestic Life; The Sober Comfort, All The Peace Which Springs From The Large Aggregate Of Little Things; On These Small Cares Of Daughter, Wife Or Friend, The Almost Sacred Joys Of Home Depend.

There Are Only Two Bad Things In This World, Sin And Bile.

The Sober Comfort, All The Peace Which Springs From The Large Aggregate Of Little Things.

My Retirement Was Now Become Solitude; The Former Is, I Believe, The Best State For The Mind Of Man, The Latter Almost The Worst. In Complete Solitude, The Eye Wants Objects, The Heart Wants Attachments, The Understanding Wants Reciprocation. The Character Loses Its Tenderness When It Has Nothing To Strengthen It, Its Sweetness When It Has Nothing To Soothe It.

It Is The Large Aggregate Of Small Things Perpetually Occurring That Robs Me Of All My Time. The Expense Of Learning To Read Might Have Been Spared In My Education, For I Never Read.