The chief proof of man's real greatness lies in his perception of his own smallness.

Picnics are very dear to those who are in the first stage of the tender passion.

There's a light in a woman's eyes that speaks louder than words.

Data!data!data!" he cried impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay.

An absence of antecedents and of relatives is sometimes an aid rather than an impediment to social advancement . . .

I had ... come to an entirely erroneous conclusion, which shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from insufficient data.

Art in the blood is liable to take the strangest forms.