To every man it is decreed: Thou shalt live alone. Happy they who imagine that they have escaped the common lot; happy, whilst they imagine it.

Money is made at Christmas out of holly and mistletoe, but who save the vendors would greatly care if no green branch were procurable?

Life, I fancy, would very often be insupportable, but for the luxury of self compassion.

Money is time. With money I buy for cheerful use the hours which otherwise would not in any sense be mine; nay, which would make me their miserable bondsman.

Flippancy, the most hopeless form of intellectual vice.

Persistent prophecy is a familiar way of assuring the event.

Human creatures have a mervellous power of adapting themselves to necessity.