The greater a man's talents, the more marked his idiosyncracies. Yet in the provinces originality is considered perilously close to lunacy.
When one has no particular talent for anything, one takes to the pen.
Materialism and spirituality are two pretty racquets with which charlatans in cap and gown make the same ball fly.
The wounds of self-love turn incurable when the oxide of self-love gets into them.
How can we explain the perpetuity of envy--a vice which yields no return?
No frozen-hearted woman ever I laid eyes on but has made duty her religion.