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

Hotel life is about the same in every latitude.

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

The cream of enjoyment in this life is always impromptu. The chance walk; the unexpected visit; the unpremeditated journey; the unsought conversation or acquaintance.

Oh! to be a child again. My only treasures, bits of shell and stone and glass. To love nothing but maple sugar. To fear nothing but a big dog. To go to sleep without dreading the morrow. To wake up with a shout. Not to have seen a dead face. Not to dread a living one. To be able to believe.

Our domestic Napoleons, too many of them, give flattery, bonnets and bracelets to women, and everything else but - justice.

Nowhere more than in New York does the contest between squalor and splendor so sharply present itself.