Everything in the country, animate and inanimate, seems to whisper, be serene, be kind, be happy. We grow tolerant there unconsciously.

Hurry, drive and bustle ... Everybody looking out for number one, and caring little who jostled past, if their rights were not infringed.

Why don't men ... leave off those detestable stiff collars, stocks, and things, that make them all look like choked chickens, and which hide so many handsomely-turned throats, that a body never sees, unless a body is married, or unless a body happens to see a body's brothers while they are shaving.

I am getting sick of people. I am falling in love with things. They hold their tongues.

Blessed be sleep! We are all young then; we are all happy. Then our dead are living.

Advice is like a doctor's pills; how easily he gives them! how reluctantly he takes them when his turn comes!

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.