“Well, it is a particular sin to permit grief for what is gone to poison the praise for what blessings remain to us.”
“I would merely beg you not to be too much bowed down by grief. What seem to us bitter trails are often blessings in disguise.”
“The pleasure of sin is soon gone, but the sting remains.”
“What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone.”
“One can't ever be sure what is more valuable: what has gone away, or what remains.”
“And now, dear Mr. Worthing, I will not intrude any longer into a house of sorrow. I would merely beg you not to be too much bowed down by grief. What seem to us bitter trials are often blessings in disguise.This seems to me a blessing of an extremely obvious kind.”