We seem but to linger in manhood to tell the dreams of our childhood, and they vanish out of memory ere we learn the language.

It is usually the imagination that is wounded first, rather than the heart; it being much more sensitive.

Thank God, they cannot cut down the clouds!

Fame itself is but an epitaph; as late, as false, as true.

Even the elephant carries but a small trunk on his journeys. The perfection of traveling is to travel without baggage.

The man who thrusts his manners upon me does as if he were to insist on introducing me to his cabinet of curiosities, when I wished to see himself.

City life is millions of people being lonesome together.