Notwithstanding the poverty of my outside experience, I have always had a significance for myself, and every chance to stumle along my straight and narrow little path, and to worship at the feet of my Deity, and what more can a human soul ask for?

Truly nothing is to be expected except for the unexpected.

How sick one gets of being "good," how much I should respect myself if I could burst out and make everyone wretched for twenty-four hours; embody selfishness.

Ah! Those strange people who have the courage to be unhappy! Are they unhappy, by the way?

The gain isn't counted to the recluse and inactive that, having nothing to measure themselves by and never being tested by failure, they simmer and soak perpetually in conscious complacency.

I wonder whether if I had an education I should have been more or less a fool that I am.

I make it a rule always to believe compliments implicitly for five minutes, and to simmer gently for twenty more.