The Impartial Friend: Death, the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose pity and whose peace and whose refuge are for all--the soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved.

The waves most washed me off the raft sometimes, but I hadn't any clothes on, and didn't mind.

The cat, having sat upon a hot stove lid, will not sit upon a hot stove lid again. Nor upon a cold stove lid.

Intellectual ''work'' is misnamed; it is a pleasure, a dissipation, and is its own highest reward.

Patriotism is usually the refuge of the scoundrel. He is the man who talks the loudest.

People are much more willing to lend you books than bookcases.

Let us consider that we are all partially insane. It will explain us to each other; it will unriddle many riddles; it will make clear and simple many things which are involved in haunting and harassing difficulties and obscurities now.