society ... is tolerant of crimes, and long suffering with dullness, but it shows no mercy to those who are different from other people.

People always make mistakes when they fancy themselves exceptions.

One's conscience reproaches one much more stingingly for one's follies than one's crimes.

Whilst you live a very little religion seems enough; but believe me, it requires a great deal when you come to die.

I wish there were some photographic process by which one's mind could be struck off and transferred to that of the friend we wish to know it, without the medium of this confounded letter-writing!

Death is the last fact of which we can be certain.

Did you ever see a giraffe? It is like something from between the regions of truth and fiction.