People tell me that the countryside must always be stupid and backward, and I get angry, as if it were said that only townspeople had immortal souls, and that it was only in the city that the flame of divinity breathed into the first men had an unobscured glow.

Twilight, a timid, fawn, went glimmering by, and Night, the dark-blue hunter, followed fast.

Any relations in a social order will endure if there is infused into them some of that spirit of human sympathy, which qualifies life for immortality.

A literary movement: five or six people who live in the same town and hate each other.

In the lost boyhood of Judas, Christ was betrayed.

Whiskey: a torchligh procession marching down your throat.

There is a law in human nature which draws us to like what we passionately condemn.