"But though it is said by some Greek, who, I think, is quoted by your favourite Seneca, that a wise man carries his country with him at the soles of his feet, he can't carry also the sunshine over his head." "I tell you what it is," said the parson, bluntly; "you would have a much keener sense of happiness if you had much less esteem for philosophy." "Cospetto!" said the doctor, rousing himself.

"Just explain, will you ?" "Does not the search after wisdom induce desires not satisfied in this small circle to which your life is confined?
It is not so much your country for which you yearn, as it is for space to your intellect, employment for your thoughts, career for your aspirations." "You have guessed at the tooth which aches," said Riccabocca, with admiration.
"Easy to do that," answered the parson.

"Our wisdom teeth come last and give us the most pain; and if you would just starve the mind a little, and nourish the heart more, you would be less of a philosopher and more of a--" The parson had the word "Christian" at the tip of his tongue; he suppressed a word that, so spoken, would have been exceedingly irritating, and substituted, with elegant antithesis, "and more of a happy man!" "I do all I can with my heart," quoth the doctor.
"Not you! For a man with such a heart as yours should never feel the want of the sunshine.

My friend, we live in an age of over mental cultivation.

We neglect too much the simple healthful outer life, in which there is so much positive joy.