If you want to be thought a liar, always tell the truth

I can't forgive my friends for dying; I don't find these vanishing acts of theirs at all amusing.

This nice and subtle happiness of reading, this joy not chilled by age, this polite and unpunished vice, this selfish, serene life-long intoxication.

What I like in a good author is not what he says but what he whispers.

Don't tell friends their social faults; they will cure the fault and never forgive you.

People before the public live an imagined life in the thought of others, and flourish or feel faint as their self outside themselves grows bright or dwindles in that mirror.

How often my soul visits the National Gallery, and how seldom