It seems to me so shocking to see the precious hours of a man's life - the priceless moments that will never come back to him again - being wasted in a mere brutish sleep.

Life is a thing to be lived, not spent; to be faced, not ordered. Life is not a game of chess, the victory to the most knowing; it is a game of cards, one's hand by skill to be made the best of.

Time is but the shadow of the world upon the background of Eternity.

Let us play the game of life as sportsmen, pocketing our winnings with a smile, leaving our losings with a shrug.

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

They [dogs] never talk about themselves but listen to you while you talk about yourself, and keep up an appearance of being interested in the conversation.

What readers ask nowadays in a book is that it should improve, instruct, and elevate. This book wouldn't elevate a cow.