Upon my word, I think the truth is the hardest missile one can be pelted with.
Cruelty, like every other vice, requires no motive outside of itself; it only requires opportunity.
In all private quarrels the duller nature is triumphant by reason of dullness.
We are led on, like little children, by a way we know not.
Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.
I have the conviction that excessive literary production is a social offence.