For God's sake (I never was more serious) don't make me ridiculous any more by terming me gentle-hearted in print.

By myself walking, To myself talking.

A man may do very well with a very little knowledge, and scarce be found out in mixed company; everybody is so much more ready to produce his own, than to call for a display of your acquisitions.

I mean your borrowers of books - those mutilators of collections, spoilers of the symmetry of shelves, and creators of odd volumes.

No work is worse than overwork; the mind preys on itself,--the most unwholesome of food.

Damn the age. I'll write for antiquity.

We are nothing; less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been.