True melancholy breeds your perfect, fine wit, sir.

When the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose.

A person who longs to leave the place where he lives is an unhappy person.

Sooner or later in life everyone discovers that perfect happiness is unrealizable, but there are few who pause to consider the antithesis: that perfect unhappiness is equally unattainable.

Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.

What makes man most unhappy is to be deprived not of that which he had, but of that which he did not have, and did not really know.

Oh the piercing sadness of life in the midst of its ordinariness!

Life is a well of joy; but for those out of whom an upset stomach speaks, which is the father of melancholy, all wells are poisoned.

I have discovered that all man's unhappiness derives from only one source-not being able to sit quietly in a room.

How quick the old woe follows a little bliss!