The vanity of man revolts from the serene indifference of the cat.

We cannot hope to scale great moral heights by ignoring petty obligations.

What strange impulse is it which induces otherwise truthful people to say they like music when they do not, and thus expose themselves to hours of boredom?

There is a natural limit to the success we wish our friends, even when we have spurred them on their way.

Wit is a thing capable of proof.

A vast deal of ingenuity is wasted every year in evoking the undesirable, in the careful construction of objects which burden life. Frankenstein was a large rather than an isolated example.

We are tethered to our kind, and may as well join hands in the struggle.