Nothing is so good as it seems beforehand.

The best part of our lives we pass in counting on what is to come.

You come to the United States not knowing what to expect. Then all your worst prejudices are confirmed.

The hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more pleasing than those crowned with fruition.

Lighten grief with hopes of a brighter morrow; Temper joy, in fear of a change of fortune.

If pleasures are greatest in anticipation, just remember that this is also true of trouble.

It seems to be the fate of man to seek all his consolations in futurity. The time present is seldom able to fill desire or imagination with immediate enjoyment, and we are forced to supply its deficiencies by recollection or anticipation.

As I walked purposefully down Kilindini Road, past the rows of Indian shops full of brummagem- the ivory knickknacks, fly whisks, and musical chamber pots that called up nostalgic memoirs of Sixth Avenue-my nerves tingled with exultation.

Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.

Even if it is to be, what end do you serve by running to meet distress?