The lowest and vilest alleys of London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.

I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix.

Life, it turns out, is infinitely more clever and adaptable than anyone had ever supposed.

Jealousy is a strange transformer of characters.

We surely know by some nameless instinct more about our futures than we think we know.

It is all in the way of professional experience.

You never tire of the moor. You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it contains. It is so vast, and so barren, and so mysterious.