I have written a wicked book, and feel spotless as the lamb.

There are two places in the world where men can most effectively disappear - the city of London and the South Seas.

I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved but hollow courtesy.

The great God absolute! The centre and circumference of all democracy! His omnipresence, our divine equality!

Appalling is the soul of a man! Better might one be pushed off into the material spaces beyond the uttermost orbit of our sun, than once feel himself fairly afloat in himself.

That mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true--not true, or undeveloped.

It is the easiest thing in the world for a man to look as if he had a great secret in him.