Happiness and goodness, according to canting moralists, stand in the relation of effect and cause. There was never anything less proved or less proba… - Robert Louis Stevenson

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Happiness and goodness, according to canting moralists, stand in the relation of effect and cause. There was never anything less proved or less probable: our happiness is never in our own hands; we inherit our constitution; we stand buffet among friends and enemies; we may be so built as to feel a sneer or an aspersion with unusual keenness and so circumstanced as to be unusually exposed to them; we may have nerves very sensitive to pain, and be afflicted with a disease very painful. Virtue will not help us, and it is not meant to help us.

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About Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Louis (Balfour) Stevenson (13 November 1850 – 3 December 1894) was a Scottish novelist, poet, and travel writer, and a representative of Neo-romanticism.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Robert Luis Stivensoni Shih-ti-wen-sheng Stivenson Robert Loui Sitivensin Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson Robert Lui Stivenson RL Stivenson RL Stevenson RLS R. L. Stevenson Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson
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Additional quotes by Robert Louis Stevenson

To look back upon the past year, and see how little we have striven and to what small purpose: and how often we have been cowardly and hung back, or temerarious and rushed unwisely in; and how every day and all day long we have transgressed the law of kindness; -it may seem a paradox, but in the bitterness of these discoveries, a certain consolation resides. Life is not designed to minister to a man's vanity. He goes upon his long business most of the time with a hanging head, and all the time like a blind child. Full of rewards and pleasures as it is - so that to see the day break or the moon rise, or to meet a friend, or to hear the dinner-call when he is hungry, fills him with surprising joys - this world is yet for him no abiding city. Friendships fall through, health fails, weariness assails him; year after year, he must thumb the hardly varying record of his own weakness and folly. It is a friendly process of detachment. When the time comes that he should go, there need be few illusions left about himself. Here lies one who meant well, tried a little, failed much: -surely that may be his epitaph, of which he need not be ashamed.

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