When a man loves cats, I am his friend and comrade, without further introduction.

What is there in Rome for me to see that others have not seen before me? What is there for me to touch that others have not touched? What is there for me to feel, to learn, to hear, to know, that shall thrill me before it pass to others? What can I discover?--Nothing. Nothing whatsoever. One charm of travel dies here.

It's better to be an optimist who is sometimes wrong than a pessimist who is always right

I do see that there is an argument against suicide: the grief of the worshipers left behind, the awful famine in their hearts, these are too costly terms for the release.

All say, ‘how hard it is that we have to die’ -- a strange complaint to come from the mouths of those who have had to live.

They all laid their heads together like as many lawyers when they are gettin' ready to prove that a man's heirs ain't got any right to his property.

If you're looking for friends when you need them...it's too late.