To-day is always different from yesterday.

The sea complains upon a thousand shores.

Pride's chickens have bonny feathers, but they are an expensive brood to rear. They eat up everything, and are always lean when brought to market.

To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.

Style, after all, rather than thought, is the immortal thing in literature.

Your death and my death are mainly of importance to ourselves. The black plumes will be stripped off our hearses within the hour; tears will dry, hurt hearts close again, our graves grow level with the church-yard, and although we are away, the world wags on. It does not miss us; and those who are near us, when the first strangeness of vacancy wears off, will not miss us much either.

Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of mortal life.