In your Salvation shelter I saw poverty, misery, cold and hunger. You gave them bread and treacle and dreams of heaven. I give from thirty shillings a week to twelve thousand a year. They find their own dreams; but I look after the drainage.

Fashions, after all, are only induced epidemics.

You know, Tolstoy, like myself, wasn't taken in by superstitions like science and medicine.

It's all that the young can do for the old, to shock them and keep them up to date.

All great Truth first starts as Blasphemy.

This is the true joy of life-the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one, the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown to the scrap-heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish clod of ailments and grievances.

It is most unwise for people in love to marry.