TOUCHINESS, when it becomes chronic, is a morbid condition of the inward disposition. It is self-love inflamed to the acute point.

DO nothing in a hurry.  Nature never does. ‘Most haste, worse speed,’ says the old proverb.  If you are in doubt, sleep over it.  But, above all, never quarrel in a hurry. 

IF this be one of our chief duties – promoting the happiness of our neighbours – most certainly there is nothing which so entirely runs counter to it, and makes it impossible, as an undisciplined temper.

And yet men laugh over it.  ‘Only temper, they call it:  a little hot-headedness, a momentary ruffling of the surface, a mere passing cloud.

If he kicks small animals, swears violently at a servant who mistakes orders, or is grossly rude to his wife, it is remarked apologetically that these things mean nothing – they are all temper.

WE may be somewhat surprised when we discover how precisely Pascal, or Shakspeare, or Montaigne, can put his finger on our weak point, or tell us the truth about some moral lameness or disorder of which we, perhaps, were beginning to accept a more lenient and comfortable diagnosis.

IT is a mood which severs a man from thoughts of God, and suffers him not to be calm and kindly to his brethren.

YOU find yourself refreshed by the presence of cheerful people.  Why not make earnest effort to confer that pleasure on others?