Eat with the rich, but go to the play with the poor, who are capable of joy.

What humbugs we are, who pretend to live for beauty, and never see the dawn!

An echo of music, a face in the street, the wafer of the new moon, a wanton thought - only in the iridescence of things the vagabond soul is happy.

All reformers, however strict their social conscience, live in houses just as big as they can pay for.

How many of our daydreams would darken into nightmares if there seemed any danger of their coming true!

There is more felicity on the far side of baldness than young men can possibly imagine.

The lusts and greeds of the body scandalize the Soul; but it has to come to heel.