Happiness is not found in things you possess, but in what you have the courage to release.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNEThe inward pleasure of imparting pleasure – that is the choicest of all.
More Nathaniel Hawthorne Quotes
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Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
What we need for our happiness is often close at hand, if we knew but how to seek for it.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Words – so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
What is the voice of song when the world lacks the ear of taste?
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Happiness is like a butterfly.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
The marble keeps merely a cold and sad memory of a man who would else be forgotten. No man who needs a monument ever ought to have one.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Selfishness is one of the qualities apt to inspire love.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Echo is the voice of a reflection in a mirror.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
What a happy and holy fashion it is that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Trusting no man as his friend, he could not recognize his enemy when the latter actually appeared.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Families are always rising and falling in America.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
I want nothing to do with politicians. Their hearts wither away, and die out of their bodies. Their consciences are turned to india-rubber, or to some substance as black as that, and which will stretch as much.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE






