Men will confess to treason, murder, arson, false teeth, or a wig. How many of them will own up to a lack of humor?

Talk ought always to run obliquely, not nose to nose with no chance of mental escape.

As wounded men may limp through life, so our war minds may not regain the balance of their thoughts for decades.

By rights, satire is a lonely and introspective occupation, for nobody can describe a fool to the life without much patient self-inspection.

Literary people are forever judging the quality of the mind by the turn of expression.

As crowds increase we build our forts of inattention, and the more we talk the easier it is to mean little and listen not at all.

That is the consolation of a little mind; you have the fun of changing it without impeding the progress of mankind.