If all your clothes are worn to the same state, it means you go out too much.

I’m thirty,” I said. “I’m five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor

You're a slave, a bound helpless slave to one thing in the world, your imagination.

The rich get richer and the poor get - children.

When Vanity kissed Vanity, a hundred happy Junes ago, he pondered o'er her breathlessly, and, that all men might ever know, he rhymed her eyes with life and death: "Thru Time I'll save my love!" he said. . . yet Beauty vanished with his breath, and, with her lovers, she was dead. . . -Ever his wit and not her eyes, ever his art and not her hair: "Who'd learn a trick in rhyme, be wise and pause before his sonnet there". . . So all my words, however true, might sing you to a thousandth June, and no one ever know that you were Beauty for an afternoon.

Better let it all alone in the depths of her heart and the depths of the sea.

the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions.