Who would ever give up the reality of dreams for relative knowledge?

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

Physical pain however great ends in itself and falls away like dry husks from the mind, whilst moral discords and nervous horrors sear the soul.

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.

The difficulty about all this dying, is that you can't tell a fellow anything about it, so where does the fun come in?

It is so comic to hear oneself called old, even at ninety I suppose!

You must remember that a woman, by nature, needs much less to feed upon than a man, a few emotions and she is satisfied.