Democracy forever teases us with the contrast between its ideals and its realities, between its heroic possibilities and its sorry achievements.

Those persons are happiest in this restless and mutable world who are in love with change, who delight in what is new simply because it differs from what is old; who rejoice in every innovation, and find a strange alert pleasure in all that is, and that has never been before.

There was no escape from the letter-writer who, a hundred or a hundred and twenty-five years ago, captured a coveted correspondent. It would have been as easy to shake off an octopus or a boa-constrictor.

A world of vested interests is not a world which welcomes the disruptive force of candor.

Neatness of phrase is so closely akin to wit that it is often accepted as its substitute.

Wit is a pleasure-giving thing, largely because it eludes reason; but in the apprehension of an absurdity through the working of the comic spirit there is a foundation of reason, and an impetus to human companionship.

Wit is as infinite as love, and a deal more lasting in its qualities.