Doesn't the devil live forever; who ever heard that the devil was dead? Did you ever see any person wearing mourning for the devil?

Ladies are like creeds; if you cannot speak well of them, say nothing.

Out of the trunk, the branches grow; out of them, the twigs. So, in productive subjects, grow the chapters.

There is a savor of life and immortality in substantial fare. Like balloons, we are nothing till filled.

To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme.

There is nothing so slipperily alluring as sadness; we become sad in the first place by having nothing stirring to do; we continue in it, because we have found a snug sofa at last.

You cannot hide the soul.