I know all about the facts of life, and I don't think much of them.

So many of the loveliest things in England are melancholy.

extreme happiness invites religion almost as much as extreme misery.

I like seeing people when they can't see me.

Like many other much-loved humans, they believed that they owned their dogs, instead of realizing that their dogs owned them.

And who says you always have to understand things? You can like them without understanding them -- like 'em better sometimes.

I should rather like to tear these last pages out of the book. Shall I? No-a journal ought not to cheat.