Mirthfulness is in the mind, and you cannot get it out. It is the blessed spirit that God has set in the mind to dust it, to enliven its dark places, and to drive asceticism, like a foul fiend, out at the back door. It is just as good, in its place, as conscience or veneration. Praying can no more be made a substitute for smiling than smiling can for praying.—Beecher.
Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt;
And ev'ry grin so merry draws one out.
—Peter Pindar.
There is nothing like fun, is there? I haven't any myself, but I do like it in others. O, we need it! We need all the counterweights we can muster to balance the sad relations of life. God has made many sunny spots in the heart; why should we exclude the light from them?—Haliburton.
I love such mirth as does not make friends ashamed to look upon one another next morning.—Izaak Walton.
Mirth is God's medicine. Everybody ought to bathe in it. Grim care, moroseness, anxiety,—all this rust of life, ought to be scoured off by the oil of mirth. It is better than emery. Every man ought to rub himself with it. A man without mirth is like a wagon without springs, in which one is caused disagreeably to jolt by every pebble over which it runs.—Beecher.
Misfortune.—The diamond of character is revealed by the concussion of misfortune, as the splendor of the precious jewel of the mine is developed by the blows of the lapidary.—F.A. Durivage.
A soul exasperated in ills, falls out
With everything, its friend, itself.
—Addison.
We have all of us sufficient fortitude to bear the misfortunes of others.—La Rochefoucauld.
The good man, even though overwhelmed by misfortune, loses never his inborn greatness of soul. Camphor-wood burnt in the fire becomes all the more fragrant.—Sataka.
Who hath not known ill-fortune, never knew
Himself, or his own virtue.
—Mallet.