Randolph.
519.
It is not flesh and blood, it is the heart, that makes fathers and sons.
Schiller.
520.
Discontent is like ink poured into water, which fills the whole fountain full of blackness. It casts a cloud over the mind, and renders it more occupied about the evil which disquiets it than about the means of removing it.
Feltham.
521.
We are accustomed to see men deride what they do not understand, and snarl at the good and beautiful because it lies beyond their sympathies.
Goethe.