Our life is two fold Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality.

Man is born passionate of body, but with an innate though secret tendency to the love of Good in his main-spring of Mind. But God help us all! It is at present a sad jar of atoms.

What deep wounds ever closed without a scar?

Fame is the thirst of youth.

In general I do not draw well with literary men -- not that I dislike them but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication.

[Armenian] is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of learning it.

My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.