I saw a great Newfoundland dog the other day sitting in front of a mirror at the entrance to a shop in Regent's Circus, and examining himself with an amount of smug satisfaction that I have never seen equaled elsewhere outside a vestry meeting.

Cultivate a sense of humour. From a humorous point of view this lunch is rather good.

It is very strange, this domination of our intellect by our digestive organs. We cannot work, we cannot think, unless our stomach wills so. It dictates to us our emotions, our passions.... We are but the veriest, sorriest slaves of our stomach. Reach not after morality and righteousness, my friends; watch vigilantly your stomach, and diet it with care and judgment. Then virtue and contentment will come and reign within your heart, unsought by any effort of your own; and you will be a good citizen, a loving husband, and a tender father—a noble, pious man.

I want a house that has got over all its troubles; I don't want to spend the rest of my life bringing up a young and inexperienced house.

I like work; it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.

We shall never be content until each man makes his own weather and keeps it to himself.

I had walked into that reading-room a happy, healthy man. I crawled out a decrepit wreck.