When you want genuine music -- music that will come right home to you like a bad quarter, suffuse your system like strychnine whisky, go right through you like Brandreth's pills, ramify your whole constitution like the measles, and break out on your hide like the pin-feather pimples on a picked goose, -- when you want all this, just smash your piano, and invoke the glory-beaming banjo!

The frankest and freest and privatest product of the human mind and heart is a love letter.

By and by when each nation has 20,000 battleships and 5,000,000 soldiers we shall all be safe and the wisdom of statesmanship will stand confirmed.

All right, then, I'll go to hell.

The house was as empty as a beer closet in premises where painters have been at work.

To avoid being drawn into error, keep a firm grip on the truth.

I think the Cincinnati Enquirer must be edited by children.