The odour of Burgundy, and the smell of French sauces, and the sight of clean napkins and long loaves, knocked as a very welcome visitor at the door of our inner man.

That the boat did not upset I simply state as a fact. Why it did not upset I am unable to offer any reason. I have often thought about the matter since, but I have never succeeded in arriving at any satisfactory explanation of the phenomenon. Possibly the result may have been brought about by the natural obstinacy of all things in this world. The boat may possibly have come to the conclusion, judging from a cursory view of our behaviour, that we had come out for a morning's suicide, and had thereupon determined to disappoint us. That is the only suggestion I can offer.

Evil thought is a dangerous pet. It is safer to play with it from behind the iron bars of circumstance.

I could not conjure up one melancholy fancy upon a mutton chop and a glass of champagne.

There may be a better land where bicycle saddles are made of rainbow, stuffed with cloud; in this world the simplest thing is to get used to something hard.

I don't know why it should be, I am sure; but the sight of another man asleep in bed when I am up, maddens me.

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