We live in the flicker -- may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday.

The East Wind, an interloper in the dominions of Westerly Weather, is an impassive-faced tyrant with a sharp poniard held behind his back for a treacherous stab.

The end (goal) of art is to figure the hidden meaning of things and not their appearance; for in this profound truth lies their true reality, which does not appear in their external outlines.

Vanity plays lurid tricks with our memory, and the truth of every passion wants some pretence to make it live.

The blight of futility that lies in wait for men's speeches had fallen upon our conversation and made it a thing of empty sounds.

The last thing a woman will consent to in a man whom she loves, or on whom she simply depends, is want of courage.

They talk of a man betraying his country, his friends, his sweetheart. There must be a moral bond first. All a man can betray is his conscience.