The difference of the English and Irish character is nowhere more plainly discerned than in their respective kitchens. With the former, this apartment is probably the cleanest, and certainly the most orderly, in the house.... An Irish kitchenis usually a temple dedicated to the goddess of disorder; and, too often, joined with her, is the potent deity of dirt.

What on earth could be more luxurious than a sofa, a book, and a cup of coffee?...Was ever anything so civil?

There is no happiness in love, except at the end of an English novel.

It's dogged as does it.

It is no good any longer having any opinion upon anything.

There is no royal road to learning; no short cut to the acquirement of any art.

As to that leisure evening of life, I must say that I do not want it. I can conceive of no contentment of which toil is not to be the immediate parent.