Husbands are an inferior class of men, who require keeping in order.

The select natures who pant after the ideal, and find nothing in pantaloons or petticoats great enough to command their reverence and love, are curiously in unison with the narrowest and pettiest.

A patronizing disposition always has its meaner side.

Awful Night! Ancestral mystery of mysteries.

I've been turning it over in after-dinner speeches, but it looks awkward-it's not what people are used to-it wants a good deal of Latin to make it go down.

Can any man or woman choose duties? No more than they can choose their birthplace or their father and mother.

Upon my word, I think the truth is the hardest missile one can be pelted with.