There is a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination; where there is no imagination there is no horror.

London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained.

Some facts should be suppressed, or, at least, a just sense of proportion should be observed in treating them.

Critics kind never mind! Critics flatter no matter! Critics blame all the same! Do your best damn the rest!

His neighbor is a tooth-drawer. That bag at his girdle is full of the teeth that he drew at Winchester fair. I warrant that there are more sound ones than sorry, for he is quick at his work and a trifle dim in the eye.

Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him.

...it is only when a man goes out into the world with the thought that there are heroisms all round him, and with the desire all alive in his heart to follow any which may come within sight of him, that he breaks away... from the life he knows, and ventures forth into the wonderful mystic twilight land where lie the great adventures and the great rewards.