A snob is unreliable. The work he praises might just be good.
I master only the language of others. Mine does with me what it wants.
Squeeze human nature into the straitjacket of criminal justice and crime will appear.
A good writer does not receive anywhere near the number of poison-pen letters that is commonly assumed. Among a hundred jackassesthere are not ten who will admit to being jackasses, and at most one who will put it in writing.
In a hollow head there is much room for knowledge.
The press, that goiter of the world, swells up with the desire for conquest and bursts with the achievements which every day brings. A week has room for the boldest climax of the human drive for expansion.