Self-respecting people do not care to peep at their reflections in unexpected mirrors, or to see themselves as others see them.

Fine writers should split hairs together, and sit side by side, like friendly apes, to pick the fleas from each others fur.

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

We should nourish our souls on the dew of Poesy, and manure them as well.

An improper mind is a perpetual feast.

I find a fascination, like the fascination for the moth of a star, in those who hold aloof and disdain me.

Those who talk on the razor-edge of double-meanings pluck the rarest blooms from the precipice on either side.