Fate stalks us with depressing monotony from womb to tomb, and, when we are least expecting it, deals us a series of crushing blows from behind. – Hesketh Pearson, The Whispering Gallery

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Curmudgeonesque
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[M]an is a machine made expressly for sorrow; he has only five senses with which to receive pleasure, and suffering comes to him through the whole surface of his body…. The man who does not suffer is an ill-made machine, an imperfect creature… – Claude Tillier (1801–1844), My Uncle Benjamin: A Humorous, Satirical, and
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It is against stupidity in every shape and form that we have to wage our eternal battle. But how can we wonder at the want of sense on the part of those who have had no advantages, when we see such plentiful absence of that commodity on the part of those who have had all the advantages? – William Booth
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