A composer of aphorisms can pluck blossoms even from a razor-prop.

Was not Hippias's dream the very counterpart of Richard's position?
He, had he looked narrowly, might have taken the clear path: he, too, had been making dainty steps till he was surrounded by the grinning blades.

And from that text Sir Austin preached to his son when they were alone.

Little Clare was still too unwell to be permitted to attend the dessert, and father and son were soon closeted together.
It was a strange meeting.

They seemed to have been separated so long.
The father took his son's hand; they sat without a word passing between them.