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Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of mortal life.

Alexander Smith

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Alexander Smith
Age: 36 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 31
Died: 1867
Died: January 5
Poet
Cille Mheàrnaig
Trifles
Mortal
Mortals
Misery
Happiness
Make
Time
Life

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It is a characteristic of pleasure that we can never recognize it to be pleasure till after it is gone.
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The discovery of a grey hair when you are brushing out your whiskers of a morning - first fallen flake of the coming snows of age - is a disagreeable thing.
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Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.
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A man gazing at the stars is proverbially at the mercy of the puddles in the road.
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Pleasure has no logic it never treads in its own footsteps.
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The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
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A man does not plant a tree for himself he plants it for posterity.
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We twain have met like the ships upon the sea, Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet: One little hour! and then, away they speed On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam, To meet no more.
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The great man is the man who does a thing for the first time.
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If a man is worth knowing at all, he is worth knowing well.
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Stirling, like a huge brooch, clasps Highlands and Lowlands together.
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If you wish to preserve your secret, wrap it up in frankness.
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In life there is nothing more unexpected and surprising than the arrivals and departures of pleasure. If we find it in one place today, it is vain to seek it there tomorrow. You can not lay a trap for it.
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An old novel has a history of its own.
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How beautiful the yesterday that stood Over me like a rainbow! I am alone, The past is past. I see the future stretch All dark and barren as a rainy sea.
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In my garden I spend my days, in my library I spend my nights. My interests are divided between my geraniums and my books. With the flower I am in the present with the book I am in the past.
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Men praise poverty, as the African worships Mumbo Jumbo--from terror of the malign power, and a desire to propitiate at.
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Seated in my library at night, and looking on the silent faces of my books, I am occasionally visited by a strange sense of the supernatural.
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The sea complains upon a thousand shores.
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If the egotist is weak, his egotism is worthless. If the egotist is strong, acute, full of distinctive character, his egotism is precious, and remains a possession of the race.
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